


Candle Glow and Mistletoe

by etux



Series: Holiday Series [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: (they pretend NOT to be married), Advent Calendar, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Married Couple, Secret Marriage, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:09:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 29,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5323463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etux/pseuds/etux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo and Thorin have been married for six months now. The thing is, Thorin’s family doesn’t know this. And because pretending to be just friends for the three weeks you’re going to spend at the family cabin is so much easier than telling the truth, that is what they will do.</p><p>(Of course Bilbo has his own ideas of how believable it is for a grown man to bring a friend to spend Christmas with his family. That’s why the make a bet out of it.)</p><p> </p><p>  <span class="small">[2015 Bagginshield Advent Calendar]</span></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tuesday

**Author's Note:**

> Yay, it's finally December & the Christmas waiting begins! I hope you'll enjoy this Christmas countdown to the 25th with me and this little fic.
> 
> I'll update daily, always sometime between 7am and 11pm (EET).
> 
> And yes, the title is from _All I Want for Christmas Is You_ \- I know, I know. All the complaints of my cheesiness can be sent to my [tumblr](http://yavannakementari.tumblr.com). You're also welcome to talk to me about other stuff.
> 
>  **There is now a trailer for this fic!** Watch it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O2A8EVfETeg), done by lovely [Sansael](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sansael/pseuds/Sansael). I'm still amazed about the awesomeness of this<3.

Thorin raises his gaze from the computer screen as his phone starts ringing. He picks the phone up and answers it with a heavy sigh. Normally he wouldn't answer his´personal phone during work hours, but this isn't his regular ringtone. This is Taylor Swift's Shake It Off – the song that only plays from his phone when Dís is calling.

And when Dís calls, you don't simply _not_ answer.

”Thorin Durin, head of the Oakenshield Law”, Thorin says, just to remind his sister about acceptable calling times.

”I know who you are”, says Dís' familiar voice over the line. ”It's not 1996 anymore. You don't have to state your whole name when answering. Not to people who's numbers you have in your contacts, anyway.”

”Who says I have your number in my contacts?”

”Ha-ha, very funny, Thorin. I'm glad your sense of humor hasn't improved. It's always reassuring to realize some things are always going to stay the same”, Dís sighs melodramatically. ”Well, anyway, I called you--”

”I'm sorry, who were you again?” Thorin teases. ”I don't think you told your name?”

”--to tell you that you're invited to the family cabin next Saturday”, Dís continues, choosing to ignore Thorin completely.

” _Next_ Saturday?” Thorin repeats, startled. ”The fifth? But I was supposed to-”

” _And_ by invited I meant required”, Dís interrupts sternly. ”We are your family, Thorin, and we miss you. I haven't seen you in person in over a year!”

Thorin has the sense to feel a bit ashamed at that. ”I've been.. busy.”

Busy meeting the cutest man in all New York and hastily getting married to him. But that wasn't something Thorin was going to tell Dís over the phone. Or at all.

”I know, I know”, Dís sighs, and even though Thorin can't see her, he's sure his sister is rolling her eyes. ”And we're all so proud of your big law firm and fancy career, but this is _family_ , so pull your head out of your ass, Thorin.”

Thorin chooses to not to answer. He has over thirty years of experience dealing with Dís, and he knows there's absolutely no chance of winning an argument with her. Except if you're her husband. Which Thorin obviously is not.

After a while, Dís adds: ”Plus we're worried about you.”

That takes Thorin by surprise. ”Worried?”, he repeats. ”Why the hell would you be _worried_ about me?”

”Because you're all alone in a big city”, Dís says like it's the most obvious thing. ”I know mom and dad keep telling you and Frerin to find someone settle down with, but it's not even about that. I know you and I know how much you work. I'm worried that you don't see people outside the office at all.”

Well that is... heartwarming _and_ very inaccurate. Maybe a year ago he spent all of his evenings doing paperwork, but a lot has changed since then. Meeting a cute stranger in a cafe does that to a person. Especially if you don't bother with rom-com cuteness on a first meeting. Or the second. Or the third.

Thorin is still amazed that even though he and Bilbo yelled at each other on that first (and the second _and_ the third) meeting, they eventually found some common ground and became friends. And he's even more amazed that their friendship took only four months to turn into dating and then marriage.

(Straight people get hastily married all the time, so why couldn't they do it too?)

Despite the bumpy start in their relationship, married life has been the best six months Thorin has ever had. And the least lonely too, even though he grew up with two younger siblings. There's just something about him and Bilbo that... _clicks_.  
They are happy together.

Not that Thorin has told his family about any of that.

”I have friends!” Thorin protests, because telling his sister that he got married in June would be too much trouble. All those questions and accusations. ' _Why didn't you tell?_ ' ' _What's he like?_ ' ' _Are you sure you aren't rushing this?_ ' Too much of a hassle, being honest.

”So bring one!” Dís exclaims on the phone. ”To the family cabin! We need new faces there, God knows I'm bored of looking at yours.”

”Very heart-warming”, Thorin sighs as an answer to the teasing. But taking a friend to the cabin... There's an idea. Way to please his family and spend the whole Christmas with his husband. _And_ without telling his family he's married to the said husband. _Perfect_.

”I'm the youngest, teasing is part of the job description”, there's a smile in Dís' voice. ”But seriously. Bring a friend. I bet Dwalin is bringing Nori again, and who knows who Frerin will bring-”

”Nori and Dwalin are _not_ friends”, Thorin points out. ”And I'm just happy if Frerin brings someone. More company he has, less hassle he is.”

Dís makes a noncommittal sound and Thorin sighs in fake exasperation. ”Fine. I'll bring a friend.” He decides to take the act on the next level. ”I have a friend who's a writer, so he'll be able to come to the cabin with me on the fifth. You happy now?”

”Extremely!” Dís quips. ”See you on fifth, bring your friend. Love you!”

Dís hangs up, and Thorin is left sitting alone in his office, staring at the phone in his hand. He has a car to pack for a roadtrip, and a husband to inform about that road trip.

And also a husband to inform about the fact that he hasn't told his family about that husband.


	2. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is a handsome husband, a marshmallow, and a moron.

Bilbo clicks the 'send' button at the exact same time Thorin walks into the room.

”Hi, handsome”, Bilbo says, turning to face his husband to pull him down for a kiss by his tie. ”You're home early.”

Thorin is laughing when he pulls away from the kiss, straightening his tie. ”Early? Bilbo, it's after six o'clock. I was working overtime again.”

”What?” Bilbo exclaims, and checks the clock on his computer. The little numbers on the corner of the screen are showing twenty past six. Damn, he must have got caught in his writing again. ”And also _what?_ Overtime? _Again?_ Thorin, you're the boss there. You shouldn't be the one always working overtime. You work too much, you know.”

”Says him”, Thorin says and rolls his eyes. ”I see your e-mail is open. Is the first draft finally ready?”

”Just sent it for my editor”, Bilbo says with an easy smile. ”And she's not not going to send it back before January, so I'm all yours for the Holidays.”

The smile that had been tugging Thorin's lips upwards, falters. ”Talking about the Holidays...”

There's something about Thorin's expression that makes Bilbo feel nervous. ”What?”

“I have to go to the family cabin already on the fifth.”

“The fifth… That’s this saturday, right?” Bilbo mused, wondering why he felt that there was something weird about Thorin’s wording. And then it hit him. “Wait, what? What do you mean _you_ have to go?”

“We. We! _We_ have to go”, Thorin said hurriedly. “Obviously they’re waiting for both of us. We _are_ both going.”

Bilbo eyes Thorin with suspicion. His husband keeps twitching with a guilty expression on his face. “Thorin”, Bilbo stresses each syllable carefully. “You _have_ told your family about us, haven’t you?”

“Of course-”, Thorin starts, but stops when Bilbo gives him his best dissapointed face. Thorin tucks his head down in shame. “-I didn’t.”

“Oh. My. _God_ ”, Bilbo pokes his finger in Thorin’s chest with every word. “You didn’t tell them we’re together?”

Thorin just shakes his head. Bilbo lets a frustrated sigh.  
“I knew you didn’t tell them about our marriage, but not to even tell them we’re together?” It’s Bilbo’s turn to shake his head. “It’s lucky you’re so pretty.”

“It’s not that easy to tell your family-”

“Oh yes it is”, Bilbo exclaims. “You pick up the phone, call them, and tell them. Seriously Thorin. You couldn’t just tell them you’re bringing someone?”

Just as Bilbo is starting to get angry, Thorin wraps his arms around him. Bilbo leans his head against his husband’s shoulder.

“I did tell them I’m bringing someone”, Thorin mutters, burying his face in Bilbo’s curly hair.

“Oh, do tell who did you tell you’re bringing”, Bilbo says, and Thorin to an arm’s length away from himself. “Your husband? Fiancé? Boyfriend?”

A blush rises to Thorin’s cheeks. “A… friend?”

Bilbo has a sudden urge to smack his hand on his own face that he suppresses. “Thorin, no one past their twenties brings _a friend_ to the family cabin for Christmas.”

“I do!”

Bilbo doesn’t even bother with saying anything. He just raises his eyebrows in a way that asks, _seriously?_

“...or I _could_ , at least.”

Bilbo sighs and presses back against Thorin’s chest. “Just so you know, your family is going to guess we’re together.”

“They won’t guess a thing!” Thorin insists. “You don’t know them-”

“Oh, and who’s fault is that?”

“- _and_ believe me, they don’t realize _anything_ if you don’t spell it for them.”

Bilbo rolls his eyes and pulls Thorin for a kiss. Married life has been better than he ever would have imagined, but sometimes he just wonders. Thorin is intelligent, good-looking, loyal, funny, loving… and yet dumb enough not to tell his family about radical life changes.

“Well, it’s not like it matters”, Bilbo says after they both pull away from the kiss. “Because if we’re really going to spend almost a month with them, you _might_ as well spell it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, please”, Bilbo rolls his eyes again. “You’re the biggest marshmallow there is. You can’t be in the same room as me without it being completely obvious.”

“It?” Thorin looks puzzled, and Bilbo snorts.

“‘It’ meaning you being completely head over heels for me”, Bilbo teases, and presses a kiss on the tip of Thorin’s nose before turning back to his computer.

“I’m not-” Thorin starts, but Bilbo raises his hand up without turning around and silences Thorin with that gesture.

“If I were you, I’d choose my next words very carefully”, Bilbo says dryly.

“I wasn’t going to deny being head over heels for you” Thorin says, and Bilbo can practically _hear_ the pout in his voice. “I was going to say that I’m not that hopeless of an actor. I’m perfectly capable of fooling my own family.”

Bilbo rolls his eyes at the computer, and turns it off after closing the internet browser. Behind him, Thorin huffs.

“I mean it.”

“And I meant what I said” Bilbo says, turning back to face his husband again. “There is no way your family isn’t going to figure out we’re together, no matter what you told or didn’t tell them. No grown-up brings _a friend_ to meet their family during Holidays.”

“Wanna bet?” Thorin asks, raising an eyebrow challengingly. Bilbo snorts and rolls his eyes again, but when Thorin keeps looking serious, he just shrugs.

“Sure”, Bilbo says with a sigh. “Why not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow will bring us a phone call with one very dear lady hobbit. (You know who she is. It's in the tags, after all.)


	3. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You bisexuals are an odd bunch”

_“Sure. Why not.”_

Well, actually there was a ton of reasons not to fool your husband's family about something this big.

One of them being the fact that Bilbo actually wanted to get to know all the people Thorin spoke with great fondness. (And with some irritation, but that was a side effect of having a family that truly cared, right?)

Bilbo was the only child of a couple that had passed a long time ago. He had cousins and second cousins, yes, but he had never been very close to any of them. Only ones he got together with regularly were Primula and Drogo, and sometimes Lobelia when Bilbo couldn't think of an excuse to skip one of her tea parties.

So, like most of the children with no siblings, he had always wondered what it would be like to have a large family. His mother had grown up with tons of siblings, and the stories of her childhood adventures with her sisters had always been Bilbo's favourites.

Thorin spoke about his family quite often, and Bilbo had dared to hope that once he got introduced to them, he might have been accepted as a part of that family. He _was_ Durin on a paper, after all.

(Even though Bilbo and Thorin had gotten married in a rather untraditional manner, they had both wanted to hold on to this tradition at least. And since it was easier for Bilbo to take his new husband’s last name because changing Thorin's name in all the legal paperwork of his company would've been a hassle… It wasn't like Bilbo couldn’t continue writing his books with Baggins as his name.)

But. No such luck then. Guess he could blame only himself, for marrying someone who was thick headed enough to make a bet of fooling his own family.

And maybe a little bit for agreeing to that bet too.

 

Bilbo let a heavy sigh as he folded some of his favourite jumpers into a luggage. He and Thorin really should do something about this competitiveness of theirs. But two fools as stubborn as them both, getting married…? A little competition was unavoidable.

Luckily, it was mostly harmless competing. Like who managed to get the morning paper first, or who was quicker to finish the new series on Netflix, so they could spoil its ending to the other.

 _Sometimes, though…_ Bilbo mused in his mind, and tried to find some sock _pairs_ in Thorin's drawers. _Sometimes it gets too far. And with this thing… It really could go too far._

Thorin's relationship with his family seemed to be complicated enough. They were close in a way - phone calls and emails were a regular thing, and on more than one occasion during the last eight months or so Thorin's younger brother had begged him to let him crash on his sofa.

But Thorin had refused. Always coming up with an excuse about an important meeting or something similar.  
And Thorin really hadn't met face-to-face with any of his family members in an year. That seemed pretty long even to Bilbo, who had last gotten coffee with Primula almost three months ago.

And even that three months was… _Christ_ , had it been that long already? Time really did fly every time Bilbo really got into writing. _Three months._

Bilbo shakes his head a bit, smiling to himself. Last time he had seen Primula, she had been two months pregnant. That meant she was already more than halfway through her pregnancy. Four more months, and he’d be an uncle.

(Primula and Drogo had both assured Bilbo that he could be an uncle even though technically he and the baby would be more like second cousins or… cousins once or twice removed? Bilbo really didn't know anything about the terms defining somebodies relation.)

God. Now that he was finished with the first draft of the book, he should get a hold of himself. Maybe he could text Primula right now… Maybe she’d be able to grab a coffee today or tomorrow… Otherwise it would have to wait until after holidays.

Bilbo puts last of his clothes into the luggage, and then picks up his phone from the bedside table. He chooses the number of his favourite cousin’s number while humming to a song that was on a radio this morning. The tune was catchy, but he just doesn’t seem to be able to remember the words.

Primula answers her phone on the fourth ring.

“Bilbo!” her cheerful voice says over the line. “Three months without as much as a peep. I take it you’ve been writing again?”

Bilbo snorts. “And I take it you’re done with the whole morning-sickness-slash-nausea-all-day-long thing?”

“Oh, so you haven’t seen me in over ninety days, but you can tell my pregnancy symptoms from my voice?”

“Well, you can’t deny the fact that you are quite a handful when you’re feeling sick”, Bilbo points out, and sits on the edge of the bed.

“And you’re one to talk?” Primula laughs. “Mr Do-Not-Disturb-Me-When-I-Write.”

“Writing is different. You have to leave people in their own peace when they are creating something.”

“I’m _literally_ creating life”, Primula sounds amused, so Bilbo doesn’t have to fear for his life yet, but he knows this is a topic that’s not going to take a lot of poking. Someone without a uterus is not the right person to make fun of a pregnant person. Luckily it seems like Primula knows her own fun-making limits of the moment too: “But. I take it you didn’t call just to mock me. Was there something you wanted to talk about?”

“Nothing specific”, Bilbo says, and lets himself fall backwards to lay on the bed. “I’m going to Thorin’s family cabin with him for Christmas, and since we’re leaving already on the fifth, I thought you might like to grab a coffee with me before that?”

“On the fifth already, huh?” Primula muses. “But yeah, coffee sounds good. Or tea. Since I’m supposed to avoid caffeine. Butyeah, sounds great. I get off work pretty early tomorrow, so… The regular place, tomorrow? At two?”

“Whatever works for you”, Bilbo nods absentmindedly to himself. “You know me, once I’m done with the first draft, all I have is a lot of free time on my hands.” 

“That was before! Now that you’re married, you should have hands full of your handsome husband”, Primula exclaims. “...not that I’d know what he looks like, since _someone hasn’t introduced to me yet_ , but if Drogo’s blush was anything to go by when I asked what your new hubby looks like, he really is something. _My_ husband has a great taste in men.”

Bilbo blinks couple of times before bursting into a laughter. He has to dry his eyes on his sleeve and calm his breathing before answering, “I honestly don’t know what I should be most appalled by, the fact you just referred to Thorin as my new _hubby_ or the fact there’s a possibility Drogo is crushing on him.”

“Hubby is a perfectly acceptable term to describe your legally committed live-in partner!” Primula protests. “And shush, a crush is a crush. Drogo is happily monogamous. Him ogling your husband doesn’t make me jealous, except that I’m devastated that _I_ haven’t gotten the chance to ogle him yet.”

“You bisexuals are an odd bunch”, Bilbo jokes, like he and Thorin didn’t have regular arguments over who male actor on Downton Abbey is the best-looking. (It’s Allen Leech aka Tom Branson, and Bilbo has _no idea_ why there’s even a discussion about it.) “And we’ll come to your place on the New Years, so you can ogle him all you want then.”

Primula makes an indistinct ‘ _hmph_ ’ noise. “It’s the time you properly introduce him to your family.”

At that, Bilbo can’t help but laugh.

“Well, at least I’m better than him on that regard”, he hums. “He hasn’t even told about me to his family.”

“What?” Primula sounds shocked, and Bilbo finds it oddly comforting. It’s nice to know he isn’t the only one who thinks Thorin’s secrecy about their relationship isn’t normal. “You’ve been married, what, six months? And you dated for a while before that, right?”

“Not for long, but for a while, yes”, Bilbo says. “But the not telling part isn’t even the worst part - he isn’t _going_ to introduce me to his family. We are going to the family cabin as _friends_.”

“No one past their twenties invites their friend to spend Christmas with their family”, Primula says flatly.

“That’s what I said!” Bilbo cries. “But did he listen to me? Of course not.”

“You did at least ask him to just introduce you as his husband, right?” Primula asks, and Bilbo can feel a blush rising to his cheeks.

“Eh..” he says intellectually.

“Oh my _God_ ”, Primula sighs. “ _What_ did you do if you didn’t even try to get your husband to act normally.”

“We might have…” Bilbo covers his face with his free hand and groans with embarrassment. “made a bet on if his family realizes we’re together on their own or not.”

There’s a long, long silence and then, “You truly are a moron, Bilbo Baggins.”

“It’s a family trait”, Bilbo warns. “And since you married one of us, your kids will all be the same.”

“All? We’ll be quite content with just this one, I think”, there’s a clear smile in Primula’s voice. “And don’t go changing the subject. You know that whole thing is ridiculous, yes?”

“A reverse rom-com”, Bilbo sighs. “Yes, I am aware.”

“Good”, Primula says. “Because I’m honestly amazed by this ridiculousness. But I’ll tell you more about your own idioticness tomorrow, yes? Drogo is going to come home any minute now, and then we’ll be off to ultrasound.”

“At two”, Bilbo says, nodding again even though he knows Primula can’t see him. “And good luck on the ultrasound. You still sure you’re not going to ask to know the sex of the baby?”

“Yup”, Primula answers. “No child of mine is going to suffer from gender expectations before getting born. And hopefully not even after that.”

“You’re a good person, you know that, right?” Bilbo smiles. There definitely is a reason why Primula is his favourite cousin. “But. See you tomorrow.”

“Love you!” Primula quips before hanging up, and Bilbo is left smiling alone in his - and Thorin’s - bedroom. He drops the phone next to himself on the bed, and rubs his face with both hands.

He has a feeling that this Christmas is going to be a lot longer than the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Primula. But then again, you can probably tell.


	4. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's legal document time™!

 

** **

** **

 

**Official Agreement on Bet Terms**

****  
  


Thorin Durin and Bilbo Durin hereby enter into a bet regarding whether or not Thorin Durin's family members will guess the real nature of the relationship between Thorin Durin and Bilbo Durin this 4th day of December, 2015. Both parties agree to the following rules:

_Family members_ includes both blood relatives and other guests spending the Holidays on the Durin family cabin this year (2015).

Neither of the parties is allowed to tell, hint or otherwise reveal the nature of their relationship to anyone when the bet is on.

  * This includes wearing wedding rings, showing any pictures, emails, texts or letters, and telling stories that have an undeniable romantic or sexual nature.



Breaking of these rules leads to immediate win of the other party.

 

  * Thorin Durin will win if on the date of leaving the cabin, on December 27th, no family member knows about the relationship between the parties.



  * Bilbo Durin will win if on the date of leaving the cabin, on December 27th, one or more family member has figured out the relationship between the parties on their own.



_Relationship_ can mean dating or marriage. Friends with benefits or other sexual agreement without romantic tendencies does not count as a relationship in order to Bilbo Durin to win the bet.

****  
  


If Thorin Durin wins, he gets the right to tell about the relationship between the parties on his own terms. This includes method and timetable.

If Bilbo Durin wins, Thorin Durin is required to tell about the relationship between the parties to all of his family members immediately. He also has to publicly explain why none of the family members was invited to the wedding and why he didn't tell about the marriage sooner.

****  
  


4th December, 2015

Thorin Durin              Bilbo Durin

 

* * *

 

“I’m afraid of how seriously you take this”, Bilbo says after signing the contract they’ve both spent the last hour or so writing. “I’m not sure a bet between two spouses requires a legal document.”

“I’m a lawyer”, Thorin shrugs and writes his own name on the line it’s supposed to go. “Legal documents are what I do.”

Bilbo just snorts at that and leaves the room to pack the rest of their bags for tomorrow after kissing Thorin’s cheek. Thorin just stares the paper in front of him and quietly wonders if this is a good idea at all.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 4th is here with a bit different & pretty short chapter. Tomorrow will bring us a road trip. (And shameless references to The Hobbit.)
> 
> I love you all so much, you've left so many kudos and comments. You're amazing!❤


	5. Saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin really, _really_ hates roadtrips.

Thorin hates roadtrips.

He hated them when Frerin graduated high school and wanted, for some unknown reason, to drive across the country with him, and he hates them now. 

He hates hours of just sitting in a small, closed place with the same people. Hates the fact that it's _impossible_ to find music that suits everyone's tastes. Hates how he gets car sick after a while even when it's him who's driving.

And, most importantly, he hates how Bilbo hates them too.

 

They haven't driven for more than twenty minutes _tops_ when Bilbo lets a distressed noise.

“What _is_ it”, asks Thorin, voice more annoyed than he is at Bilbo. It's just that the traffic of New York really makes him stressed. Leaving the city is always a nightmare.

“I forgot my handkerchief!” Bilbo cries. “We have to go back and get it, Thorin.”

“What we _have_ to do”, Thorin says, now million times more annoyed with his husband than the endless line of cars in front of him. “Is to get the hell out of this God damned city. Getting your goddamn _handkerchief_ is nowhere close to the top of list of things I have to, or, God forbid, _want_ to do.”

“But I need it”, Bilbo presses. “My nose is constantly runny this time of the year. What will your family think-”

“Use a kleenex like they do, and they won't think a thing.”

“ _A kleenex_ ”, Bilbo repeats like the mere existence of the word insults him personally. “I'm trying to save the planet, Thorin.”

Thorin snorts. “I'm sure the rainforests appreciate your _handkerchief_.”

“Joke all you want”, Bilbo’s lips press into a thin line. “But when we are all dying because of the global warming, I'm saying I told you so.”

Ah, how Thorin hates road trips.

 

Next disturbance isn't Thorin’s fault either, it’s not.

“I did a road trip playlist”, Bilbo announces when they've driven for two hours. He holds a USB-stick in his hands and is ready to stick it into the USB-port next to the CD-player and radio.

“Let me see”, Thorin says and takes the stick from Bilbo. And before his husband can say anything, he rolls down his window and throws the stick away.

“Driver picks the music”, he says and doesn't even look at Bilbo, who undoubtedly is furious at the moment.

Okay, so, maybe it was a little bit his fault. But what else he was supposed to do? Let Bilbo listen to his indie hipster crap?

No thank you.

 

Four hours later, and it's Thorin’s turn to freak out.

Not about handkerchiefs or anything equally silly, but about real concerning issues.

“I can't kiss you”, Thorin says suddenly. He has been going the bet terms over in his head for the last two hours, and something horrible has just occurred to him.

“Huh?” Bilbo puts his book down and looks at Thorin with a somewhat worried expression.

“I can't kiss you”, Thorin repeats, horrified. “When we are at the cabin. I can't kiss you.”

He had realized there would be no sleeping or doing anything else together in the same bed, but somehow he hadn't even thought about the little things like kissing or holding hands or-

“You can't have me sitting on your lap either”, Bilbo says with a knowing smirk. The bastard has obviously thought about all of this already. “Feel like backing from the bet yet?”

“Never”, Thorin says and grits his teeth, but there is an uneasy feeling in the bottom of his stomach.

He decides to continue his freak out internally so Bilbo doesn't get any more reasons to think he'll win this bet. Because he won't.

He won't. Thorin will make sure of it.

 

( _Why?_ he asks himself three hours later. He doesn't have any answer. But then again, when has that ever stopped him from doing anything.)

 

In total, it takes them a little over eighteen hours to get to the Durin family cabin. What with all the pee breaks and all.

(Thorin will say all of the breaks were made for Bilbo, and Bilbo won't deny this because he has some knowledge in being a good husband.)

When the cabin finally gets within sight, Thorin is ready to cry out of sheer relief. He’s prepared for some rough weeks with his dysfunctional family, but right now it feels like the worst is behind them.

He decides to say that much out loud, and Bilbo looks at him with wide eyes and worried mouth.

“You don't jinx something like that”, Bilbo hisses angrily, and true enough, as soon as they pull the car in front of the cabin, it's his sister who is running to meet them with open arms. His heavily pregnant sister at that.

Shit. He had totally forgotten about the cute and funny ‘we're expecting again’ -card Dís had sent almost five months ago.

The look Bilbo gives him tells that he hadn't remembered to mention that to Bilbo either.

Shit shit _shit_.

“Thorin!” Dís exclaims when Thorin opens his car door, and it doesn’t take much more than a blink before his arms are full of his sister.

“Dís”, Thorin says when he pulls gently away from the hug. A huge grin is splitting the face of his sister. Thorin glimpses at his wristwatch. “Are others sleeping already?”

“Mom and dad are, yeah. And hopefully Fíli is too”, Dís nods, her expression warm and gentle when she talks about her two-year-old. “Frerin and the others haven’t arrived yet. There has been some problems with them getting time off from work… I think Balin said he’ll be able to come on wednesday.”

Thorin nods, thoughtfully, and is just about to ask where Dís has lost her wife, when Bilbo closes his car door and the sound makes Dís notice him.

“Oh! Oh, this is the person who has the miserable role of being my brother’s only friend”, Dís smiles and ignores Bilbo’s extended hand in order to pull him into a customary Dís Durin -hug.  
“Oh, no, I’m not his only friend”, Bilbo says when he gets free of the hug and recovers from the surprise. “I’m his _best_ friend.”

Dís laughs and turns to look at Thorin. “Even better!” she declares. “Thorin, you’re so adorable. You’re a functioning adult with your own company, and you bring your best friend to the family cabin?”

“You told me to”, Thorin says at the same time as Bilbo says, “See? I told you no one does that.”

Dís just laughs again.

Thorin has a feeling that these will be some _long_ three weeks. He can only hope that Dís won’t cause too much trouble and disorder in his life.

Judging from the smiles Dís and Bilbo are exchanging already, it’s a lost hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter is my favourite so far. ~~second favourite is the one w/ primula, obviously~~ I hope you enjoyed the references to the first Hobbit movie. I can't write a roadtrip without doing at least some of those.


	6. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re familiar with his sleeping habits?” Thrain asks, and Freja puts her elbow between his ribs.

Bilbo wakes up to the sound of knocking on a door.

It takes him a moment to realize where he is, why his pillow is too soft and the mattress too hard and _why Thorin isn’t snoring right next to him._ It takes him maybe even two moments, actually, but then there’s a voice accompanying the knocking, and it all comes to him.

“I’m sorry to wake you”, says Dís’ voice from the other side of the door, and Bilbo smiles to himself when he remembers the kindness Thorin’s sister greeted them with last night. “But there’s breakfast in the kitchen, and everybody is waiting to meet you.”

Bilbo reaches to the bedside table for his glasses. “I’ll be down in a minute!” he promises, and climbs out of the bed and starts digging through his luggage for clothes. He settles for his most comfortable grey slacks and a nice, forest green sweater, and the heads downstairs.

***

In the kitchen, Bilbo is greeted with a smell of coffee and toast. And a warm ‘hello’ from a light-haired woman who couldn’t be anyone else than Thorin’s mother. She motions Bilbo to sit down at the kitchen table, and he chooses the free seat next to smiling Dís and a small blond boy in her lap. As he sits down, Bilbo gets a friendly nod from a dark-haired man sitting next to Thorin’s mother. 

“Good morning”, the man says and takes a sip from his coffee mug. “I’m Thrain Durin, Thorin’s father.”

“I figured”, Bilbo smiles. “You look a lot alike. Oh, and I’m Bilbo Du- _Baggins_. Sorry, it’s the morning that makes me forget my manners.”

Dís laughs next to him. “Trust me”, she says when the little boy in her lap starts giggling too. “That was some of the _best_ behaviour this table has seen.”

“I regret to tell you that Dís speaks the truth”, chuckles the blond woman, shaking her head. “I’m Freja, Thorin’s mother, as you probably guessed already as well.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all”, Bilbo nods, and then turns to look at the boy in Dís’ lap. He smiles at him. “But I think one person hasn’t been introduced yet. What is the name of this little boy?”

“He’s Fíli and he’s two years old”, Dís says with an easy smile. “Fee, say hello to Bilbo.”

“Hi!” the boy quips, bouncing on his mother’s lap before turning to her with wide eyes. “Play outside? Now?”

“Hey, hey, hey. Easy. No jumping on mom’s lap when the baby is still in her tummy, remember? And yes, you can go play outside”, Dís nods. “But only if you put on a jacket. Can you do that?”

Fíli nods eagerly and slides off from Dís’ lap before rushing out of the kitchen. Bilbo watches all three Durins watch the boy with fondness. He can his heart ache a bit, for he has always wanted children. He has thought about bringing it up with Thorin, but it’s still probably too soon.

...speaking of Thorin. Who unsurprisingly is nowhere to be seen. Bilbo chuckles to himself and draws the attention of the Durins’ back to himself.

“I see being at the family cabin doesn’t change his morning habits”, Bilbo explains, shrugging. Dís snorts and Freja smiles into her coffee cup while Thrain’s eyebrows climb high on his forehead.

“You’re familiar with his sleeping habits?” Thrain asks, and Freja puts her elbow between his ribs. Thrain closes his mouth and looks down with a slightly embarrassed expression. Freja just smiles at Bilbo.

“Toast and coffee?” she asks, and Bilbo feels more than a little bit confused.

***

It’s almost lunchtime when Thorin finally gets up.

Bilbo grins at him from the living room couch he’s sitting on with Dís, and gets a very familiar frown in response. Dís turns to look at Thorin with a wide grin too.

“You know, big brother”, she says, and her tone is teasing. “At breakfast table, Bilbo told us he’s familiar with your sleeping habits. I wonder what that means, hmmm.”

Thorin narrows his eyes at Bilbo, who just shrugs. He hasn’t broken any rules. There has been no revelations or stories _with undeniable sexual or romantic nature_. There has only been fact about him knowing that Thorin tends to sleep _past_ noon, if given the opportunity.

“It means that he knows I’m not to be disturbed at unreasonable hours on my free days”, Thorin says to Dís.

“‘ _Unreasonable hours_ ’? Really, Thorin?” Freja asks before Dís can even get her mouth open. “Last Sunday I tried to call you at two in the afternoon.”

Bilbo remembers last Sunday two in the afternoon. He remembers it _really_ well.

And judging from the blush rising to Thorin’s neck and cheeks, so does he.

This, of course, doesn’t go unnoticed by Dís. She claps her hands together and laughs.

“Oooh, it has been years since I saw that full body blush!” she rejoices. “So, what _did_ happen last Sunday at two in the afternoon?” she turns to face Bilbo without a warning. “Do _you_ know?”

Bilbo blinks. He has no idea what to say. He isn’t sure how much he’s allowed to imply, and besides, Thorin’s parents are in the room. Bilbo is going to win this bet and get Thorin to tell his family about their marriage, so being on good terms with said family would be nice. And being on good terms with someone’s parents doesn’t include sharing facts about _private business_ in Bilbo’s books.

“You _do_ know something!”

Apparently it doesn’t matter what he says or doesn’t say. His own blush has told Dís everything she needs to jump into conclusions.

Ah, well. Let Dís assume what she wants, and just make sure she also sees how clearly Thorin and Bilbo care about each other. That should be easy.

Bilbo smiles at Dís and then winks at Thorin, who just blushes even more furiously and disappears into the kitchen.

Winning a bet has never been this easy.

***

Bilbo learns few things on the first day at the Durin family cabin:

He learns that Freja cooks the best chicken he has ever tasted. She also tells the funniest jokes after a glass of wine, and just generally seems to be one of the warmest and most cheerful people Bilbo has had the pleasure of meeting.

He learns that Thrain is where Thorin gets his quiet and a bit broody side. But Thrain under the calm and quiet shell, he’s the worrywrat fusser of the Durin family. Freja cares, yes, but the actual mother hen is clearly Thrain. And he bakes like no one else.

He learns that Thorin is more quiet and reserved with his family than he is with Bilbo or their friends. He doesn't learn _why_ , but he has time to figure that out.

And, most importantly, he learns that he likes Dís.

He likes her wit and unashamed grin, the way she teases Thorin, and the way she takes care of her son.

(Bilbo likes Fíli too. The small boy is at the age of running all over the place, and watching him play and laugh makes Bilbo ache in the nicest way.)

 

Bilbo really likes Dís. And he tells her that much that night, when they separate in the hallway when they're about to call it a day.

Dís smiles at Bilbo with something playful in her gaze. “So, am I your new favourite Durin?” she asks, and glances a meaningful look at the closed door of Thorin's room.

Bilbo chuckles softly. “No”, he says. Partly for the sake of the bet, but mostly because it's just so _true_ and he doesn't think he could ever lie about it. “That position is permanently occupied, I’m afraid.”

Dís nods knowingly and turns to head to her room. “Good night”, she quips over her shoulder, and Bilbo waves his hand and smiles.

“Good night.”


	7. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo becomes Uncle Bilbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some (very?) lowkey angst in this one, but there's also more little Fíli, so I think it's okay.

“Me dragon, you prince!”

 

Bilbo nods and suppresses a sigh, forcing his lips into a smile. The little boy in front of him cheers and pushes a wooden sword into Bilbo’s hand. This is the fourth time Fíli has changed his mind about what he wants to play in the last half an hour.

Bilbo would be getting seriously annoyed if the boy wasn't so damned cute.

“Alright”, Bilbo nods and raises his wooden sword, pointing it at Fíli, who turns his giggles into the roar of a dragon. “I am a knight and I’ve come to slay you, oh you mighty beast!”

Fíli stops roaring and frowns at Bilbo, his whole little face scrunching in confusion.

“Why slay?” the boy asks. “Why point me with sword? Dragon and knight _friends_. Dragon good.”

Bilbo wants to roll his eyes at the serious tone Fíli uses. And the look the boy is giving him; like Bilbo is either crazy or just really stupid. But Bilbo is an adult who refuses to be rude to little kids, so he just nods seriously and continues playing a knight. This time a knight who is friends with dragons and only slays evil forest trolls.

 

Bilbo is spending the whole Monday playing with Thorin's nephew. He had volunteered to stay behind at the cabin with Fíli while the rest of the Durins are taking a day trip to town.

It's probably bad for the whole bet thing, but there are some more important things going on. Like Thorin's relationship with his family. Spending the day gift shopping with his sister and then picking and up his grandfather from the train station with his mother will be good for him.

And besides, it's not like hanging out with a two-year-old is such an unpleasant task for Bilbo. He likes children, and Fíli is surprisingly bright for someone his age. The boy likes dragons and pirates and - for Bilbo's delight - tea parties.

 

Actually, they are in the middle of one especially classy tea party when the Durins return.

Bilbo stands up and is going to leave Fíli’s room when the boy stops him by grabbing the sleeve of his mustard coloured sweater.

“Where you going?” Fíli asks, tone of his voice both accusing and worried at the same time. “Party not over yet. I made cookies.”

Bilbo glances at the cookies that are on a plate on the kids table Fíli has set for them They are made of blue Play-Doh and green paper, but that’s just details.

“I thought I'd go and meet your great grandpa”, Bilbo explains. “Your mom and uncle and grandpa and grandma went to pick him up, remember?”

“Me not want Grandpa or Great grandpa”, Fíli says slowly, like he's the adult and Bilbo is the two-year-old. Bilbo has to raise his free hand to cover the smile that’s tugging his lips upwards. “Me want tea party. And cookies. And Uncle Bilbo.”

Bilbo almost swallows his own tongue at that. He’s also only thirty percent sure Fíli has decided to call him Uncle Bilbo on his own. The other seventy percent are the possibility that Dís has taught her son that.

Not that Bilbo minds. This is all still good for the bet. Great even.

But it still makes his heart ache a little. Because right now, as they play this stupid game of pretend for the sake of a stupid bet, he isn't Fíli’s uncle. Even though he should be. He should be shaking hands with Thror Durin and introducing himself as the husband of his grandson. He should be changing recipes with Freja like mother-in-laws do with son-in-laws. He should be discussing about what's the best pipe tobacco with Thrain. He should be holding hands with Thorin and embarrassing him in front of his parents and little sister. He should be hearing about all the silly things Thorin did as a kid. He should see the photo albums.

He should be included when they talk about ‘the Durins’. That's what he gave his own last name away for, after all.

But he isn’t. Because of that stupid, _stupid_ bet. He really should've just forced Thorin to tell his family about the marriage, instead of agreeing to something as stupid as this.

...but that wouldn't have been fair either. Thorin must have his reasons to not to tell his family, and while Bilbo is more than 100% sure all those reasons are ridiculous, forcing Thorin to do anything is never a good idea. Bilbo still remembers what happened when one of their friends - Bilbo is pretty sure it was Bofur, even though he was so drunk at the time that he can't be sure of the details of that night - made Thorin sing karaoke. 

Bilbo sits down at the little table with a sigh, and Fíli looks delighted. The boy starts pouring imaginary tea into Bilbo’s tiny plastic cup.

As he pretends to eat the _delicious_ Play-Doh-and-paper-cookies, Bilbo decides to try and make the best of a really, really confusing situation. Not necessarily bad situation. Just weird. And highly unconventional.

 

Bilbo’s adult human contact on that Monday ends up being minimal amount. He meets Thror at the dinner and they exchange few polite words, but that's about it. Before dinner he's forced to play at least five different tea parties with different stuffed animals as co-guests. And after dinner Fíli demands a bedtime story of him.

(Bilbo tries out the storyline he has been plotting for his next children's book, and at least Fíli seems to enjoy the story of a warrior princess who saves her Kingdom with the help of a young witch. What his editor and publisher will say about this lesbian fairytale is a different thing, but Bilbo is glad that almost one person gets to hear the story he has been thinking about for months now.)

He doesn't even see Thorin outside of meals, since he and Thrain disappear to do some woodwork or something, and Thorin seems to be avoiding being close to him at any way.

(Bilbo doesn't know whether or not Thorin realizes that this tactic is not helping him to win the bet. If anything, it's helping Bilbo. Thorin avoiding him is only going to make the Durins suspect something.)

With the Durin men gone - Thorin and Thrain outside, and Thror already in bed - Bilbo ends up spending his evening with Dís and Freja after Fíli has fallen asleep.

 

“Thank you so much”, Dís days with a smile when Bilbo comes downstairs after telling his story to Fíli. She and Freja are sitting on the couch in the living room, and Bilbo joins their company, sitting on the nearby armchair.

“No problem”, Bilbo says, shaking his head a bit. “He’s extremely bright and kind little boy. It was a pleasure to spend a day with him.”

“Bright and kind, yes”, Dís laughs. “But also hyperactive and loud. He’s a darling and I couldn't love him more, but he's a menace.”

Bilbo just snorts, not bothering to argue. It seems to him that all mothers speak of their children this way: fond, but also tired. But that's kids what kids are, right? The greatest _and_ the worst thing in the world, simultaneously.

“You ever thought about getting children?” Freja asks with a knowing smile, and Bilbo nods.

“Oh yes! I've always thought I'd like to be a father some day. But it's so early still, and-”, he stops himself in the middle of a sentence. Right. The bet. The pretending. It's way too easy to forget that to Freja and Dís he's just a find of Thorin, when he has already started to think Durins as a family he will be part of.

“Early?” Dís asks, eyeing Bilbo with a bit too sharp look.

“I mean-”, Bilbo starts, but doesn't seem to be able to think of a way to finish. After opening and closing his mouth for a couple of times, he settles for a “I'm a writer. It'll take a couple of more books before my name is well known enough to get me a more or less steady income. Can't think about starting a family before that.”

Freja nods approvingly, clearly appreciating the logic in Bilbo’s plan. Dís just raises her eyebrow.

“What about you wife?” Dís asks. Bilbo shakes his head, and she continues: “Husband? Girlfriend? Boyfriend? Parter? Datemate? Housespouse? Really, nothing?”

Bilbo keeps shaking his head.

“Well, too bad”, Dís sighs, and rubs her pregnant belly soothingly. The baby is probably kicking. “Having a wife is the best.”

Bilbo chuckles. “I think I'd much rather have a husband still.”

“Good choice”, Freja smiles at him. “With an experience of over thirty years, I can recommend this whole having a husband thing. It's great.”

Dís rolls her eyes but grins widely. She stands up and nods to both Bilbo and her mother in a way that indicates her leaving for the night.

“Yeah”, she says when she reaches the doorway. “I'm still going to stick with my wife. _And_ I'm going to skype her now. It has been way too long since I saw her ugly mug.”

Freja laughs after Dís disappears. “Ugly mug means one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen in Dís’ language”, she says to Bilbo. “Vili is… well, you've seen how pretty child Fíli is. Imagine that, just older and a woman. She was the one to carry him, and he got all her looks.”

Bilbo nods. He had suspected as much, since Fíli’s blond hair is nothing like the blond of Freja’s hair. The shades are all different.

“I'm curious to see if the new baby will be blond or not”, Freja continues. “I mean, it will probably have the same dark hair Dís and Thorin got from their father, but… There's always the tiny chance of my blond too. That's what Frerin got anyways.”

Bilbo nods again, not knowing what to say. He has yet to meet Frerin, the middle one of the Durin siblings, and Thorin’s - quite infamous - little brother. Thorin has never told much about his family, but the few stories he _has_ told always include some crazy thing Frerin decided to do just for the sake of it.

The mental image Bilbo has of him is a bit too close to young Primula for his liking. Bilbo’s cousin is a wild thing still, but when they were younger she was unstoppable. Drogo and his Baggins-like behaviour have calmed her down a bit.

 

Bilbo sighs heavily to himself. There's still so much to find out about this family he so badly wants to be a part of, but can't yet.

He has to win this ridiculous bet as soon as possible, so Thorin will have to tell his family about their marriage, and Bilbo can actually take his role as Thorin's spouse. Lying to people isn't something he enjoys doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you guys so much! It's only the day seven, and woah?? You've left so many kudos and wonderful comments! You're the best.❤


	8. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe he’s just that awkward.

On Tuesday morning, Thorin wakes up to the sound of his phone. He reaches for his phone and tries his best not to feel disappointed when there’s no one next to him. It’s the third morning he has woken up alone, the third morning at the family cabin, and he’s used to sleeping without Bilbo by now.

He is. He totally is.

His phone tells him it’s still an ungodly hour (It’s half past nine in the morning. On a _free day_. Ungodly.) and that he has received one new message. It’s from Bilbo. Thorin sighs in defeat and gets up from the bed as he clicks the message open.

**Bilbo:** Miss me?

_Yes_ , Thorin thinks, but writes _Not a chance_ instead. He sends the message before starting the search for a clean shirt. He’s just found his dark green button up when his phone pings again.

**Bilbo:** I can smell your lies all the way to downstairs. You haven’t spoken to me at all in 13 hours. That’s the longest time we’ve gone without talking since our first date.

_I’m not the one counting hours_ , Thorin types, even though he is. And Bilbo is wrong. It has been thirteen hours and forty-five minutes. That’s almost fourteen hours.

**Bilbo:** You should just give up with the bet. Your whole family is already suspicious.

_They are not_ , Thorin sends back. And they really aren’t. Not all of them, anyway.

His father suspects nothing. He knows this much from yesterday, as the only things Thrain had talked about when they were doing woodwork were weather and Stephen King. (His two favourite topics.) If Thrain had any suspicions, he’d tell as much. Thorin still remembers the talk his father gave him when he thought that fourteen-year-old Thorin had a crush on the girl working in the cafe Thorin used to go after school to do his homework. To this day that conversation remains to be one of the most embarrassing ones Thorin has ever had.

Dís probably suspects something. But she’s always suspecting something, so that isn’t anything Thorin didn’t already expect. He has a plan for dealing with Dís.

And his mother… Well, actually Thorin isn’t too sure about Freja. She might have some suspicions or she might not. Thorin doesn’t think anyone can read Freja. She’s definitely the one from whom Dís got all of her craftiness.

**Bilbo:** Well if they don’t yet, they will soon. You’re going down. I’ve got a plan.

Thorin snorts. _Oh, you do?_ he types. _Let’s hear it then._

**Bilbo:** Maybe I’m going to send you inappropriate messages.  
 **Bilbo:** Maybe I’m going to make you so flustered with my texts that your whole family becomes concerned.

Thorin stares at his phone in horror. _You wouldn’t dare_ , he sends back. Bilbo’s answer is quick.

**Bilbo:** Just watch me.

Thorin pings four times after that, but he doesn’t open the messages. He’s only about 80% sure Bilbo wouldn’t send him inappropriate text messages.

 

Thorin’s day goes as he would’ve guessed. He eats breakfast hours after every else has finished, and then spends time playing with toy cars and a baby doll with Fíli before lunch. After lunch he helps his mother clean the kitchen and drinks some beers with his father, discussing about Stephen King once again.

He avoids Bilbo because he’s weak and he hasn’t even as much as _hugged_ his husband in the last three days. He’s having some serious second thoughts about this bet, but he isn’t ready to give up.

Thorin knows there’s no logical reason behind the bet. He isn’t ashamed of Bilbo - quite the opposite actually, he thinks it’s more likely that Bilbo should be ashamed of _him_ , what with this whole ridiculous pretending-not-to-be-married business - nor does he fear his family’s reaction. That would be stupid, given the fact that his sister has a wife and his brother will openly hit on anything that stays still long enough.

Maybe he’s just that awkward.

He didn’t tell about his and Bilbo’s relationship at the beginning because it was so new and the way they met was quite embarrassing. Shouting at strangers wasn’t something Thorin had a habit of being proud of. And after that… they had just gotten married so _soon_.

Thorin spoke to his family members maybe once a month. Look at it like this:

You call to your mother. She asks if there’s anything new has happened. You do have a new boyfriend. But you haven’t dated him for very long and you’re not sure if it’ll last. (You want it last. Oh, you want it so bad. But you don’t have very good record of lasting relationships. You think the longest you’ve dated someone was for four months? In college? Or was it high school? You really haven’t dated that much.)

The next time you call to your mother, she asks you again if there’s something new in your life. Oh, well, you do have a new husband. But who tells something like that to their mother on phone? And besides, you’d have to explain why you didn’t tell about him earlier and-

No. It did not work that way. It was easier to not to tell.

...except that Thorin really hadn’t thought it through.

He hadn’t thought about the fact that _eventually_ he’d be forced to tell about the marriage. It wasn’t like he’d be able to pretend forever. (Or even if he was, Bilbo wouldn’t. _Shouldn’t_.) He hadn’t thought about the fact that eventually he’d have to explain everything to everyone and postponing it would just mean more explaining.

And now his in this mess.

_Damn._ He really, _really_ should’ve thought this through.

Because now it’s too late to back down. The eventual explaining will already be horrible, so he might as well at least win the bet and save even some of his dignity.

( _Dignity?_ asks a little voice in the back of his head that sounds a lot like Bilbo. _This isn’t about your dignity. This is about you being a stubborn ass._

Well. He has always been a stubborn ass. Why fight it?)

So. Thorin also avoids Dís, who is the most likely one to ruin his chances of winning the bet. He sticks to the company of his father and his grandfather before dinner, and after it he retires to his room as early as possible.

He knows this isn’t the best way to win the bet, but it’s all he can do for now. Tomorrow marks the arrival of his cousins, and he knows that will cause enough diversion for him to start acting more naturally without the fear of the marriage getting discovered.

Yes. It’s a good plan. Let the cousins be the centre of attention, act natural. Maybe talk about Vili and the new baby with Dís, that’ll keep her thoughts away from Thorin’s life.

He only has nineteen more days to go.

He has a chance of winning this bet. He has.

And after he wins the bet he has the time to figure out how to tell his family about the whole thing. Maybe he can write a letter. Or they could have a fake wedding. They could pretend to start dating after this Christmas and get married some time in the spring and-

 

Thorin sighs to himself. He really _is_ just that awkward. But he’ll change. No more lying or pretending after the Holidays are over. He’ll tell the truth and be embarrassed like he deserves to be.

Like Bilbo deserves.

 

Before going to bed, Thorin opens the four messages Bilbo sent in the morning, and thanks to those, he drifts to sleep with a smile on his lips.

 

**Bilbo:** I’d absolutely dare to send you inappropriate messages when you’re spending time with your family.

**Bilbo:** I would. Just watch me.

**Bilbo:** Okay. I probably wouldn’t. I’m too proper and pure and just generally too good a person to do that. I don’t know how you managed to get me. I’m light years from your league, Durin.

**Bilbo:** ...love you.


	9. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A person needs more than just friends, Thorin. Your sister is already having her second child. She’s married. Happily settled down. You should consider doing that too.”

Nothing ever goes according to the plan.

_Nothing_ ever goes according to the plan, and Thorin really should have known this beforehand.

He had a great plan of using his cousins as a diversion. _Cousins._ A plural.

But how many cousins actually arrived? _One._

Two was supposed to come, but only one did. And the one to arrive wasn’t even Dwalin, who could’ve offered the much needed diversion. No. The one to arrive on time was Balin.

(Okay, it wasn’t exactly surprising that if only one of the two was to arrive on time it’d be Balin. He lived and worked so much closer than his brother, and it was noticeably easier for him to take vacation than it was for Dwalin. The pros of having a book shop and the cons of running a security firm. At least Dwalin is trying to arrive tomorrow.)

 

“No use to be jealous.”

Thorin almost jumps at the sound of his grandfather’s voice. He has been too focused on watching Bilbo and Balin converse on the other side of the room, that he hasn’t noticed Thror sitting next to him on the sofa.

“Jealous?” Thorin asks, and Thror nods his head towards Bilbo, who is in the middle of explaining something with his hands.

“He cares about you, you know”, Thror says gently. “He’s not going to abandon you even if he gets another friend.”

Thorin tries his best to keep his expression neutral, but he’s pretty he has a smile on his lips when he says: “Yes, I know.”

Thror nods, satisfied smile on his face. “It’s good to see that you have such a good friend.”

Thorin just huffs. He really doesn’t have anything to say to that.

“But still…” Thror continues. “A person needs more than just friends, Thorin. Your sister is already having her second child. She’s married. Happily settled down. You should consider doing that too.”

Thorin has trouble coming up with something to say, so “Frerin’s not settled down” is what ends up coming out of his mouth. Not his best comeback.

And Thror knows that too. He laughs, deep and familiar laugh that belongs in all of Thorin’s best childhood memories. “The day that boy settles down is the day it’s already too late for you”, Thror says with a twinkle in his eye. “Because he isn’t settling down before he settles down in a coffin.”

Thorin snorts and opens his mouth to say something, but before he gets gets any words out, Dís suddenly sitting on his other side.

“Aww, are you talking shit on my other big brother?” she asks, throwing her arm around Thorin’s shoulders. “Let me in. What’s the topic?”

“Grandpa was just telling me how I should settle down”, Thorin shrugs, and Dís makes a delighted noise.

“Oh, that _is_ a good topic!” she says. “And I’m with grandpops in this one. Domestic life would suit you. You’re basically a dad already.”

“I’m not”, Thorin protests when Thror starts to laugh again.

“You totally are!” Dís exclaims and pokes Thorin between the ribs with her hand that’s not thrown around his shoulders. “Dad jokes and serious expression. Ready to spoil rotten any kid that so much as smiles at you.”

“I’m not like that!”

“Oh yes you are”, Dís assures. “Are you seriously saying that you haven’t thought about it? Marriage and kids? Because it really would suit you.”

It takes Thorin all he has to not to take a glimpse of Bilbo at that, but he still smiles and says, “Okay, sure. I’ve thought about it.”

“What’s holding you then?” Thror asks. “Find a nice girl and start a family. _That’s_ simple enough.”

Dís snorts and raises her hand to receive a high five their grandfather haltingly gives.

“Or a guy, you know”, Dís adds after the high five has been completed. “There are some really nice ones closeby.” 

She nods her head towards Bilbo, and Thorin forces a snort. This is the game he decided to play and now he has to play it.

“I know what you’re implying”, Thorin says to Dís. “And I just want to say that you’re wrong.”

“I’m not implying anything”, Dís says with a smile and pecks Thorin’s cheek before rising up and going to the other side of the living room to join the whatever conversation Bilbo and Balin are having.

Thorin lets a heavy sigh. When he turns to Thror, his grandfather is facing him with a raised eyebrow.

“So”, Thror grins a bit. “Guys, huh?”

Thorin groans and buries his face in his hands.


	10. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah”, Dwalin agrees, smirking. “ _I_ never get flirted with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chap has alcohol in it. And drunk people. So if that kind of thing triggers you or squicks you out, feel free to skip this one. There isn't anything bad happening because of the alcohol (or otherwise, this is still a happy fic) but I know people who can't read anything where people drink with the intention of getting drunk, so I'm giving you a heads up in case that's your case.

It’s Thursday and Bilbo is sure he’s going to win the bet.

It’s Thursday and Bilbo is sure he’s going to win the bet _because his husband i about to embarrass himself horribly in front of his family._

 

_Why? How?_ and _What the heck?_ might be questions that have popped into your mind. To answer these questions, here is a brief explanation:

Thursday means that Balin’s younger brother and Thorin’s second cousin, Dwalin has arrived at the Durin family cabin.

With Dwalin arrived also a bottle of tequila.

Apparently it's a tradition of Dwalin and Thorin (and Dís, but she's pregnant, and Frerin, but he's not here yet) to get drunk whenever they get together.

Which would be great (Drinking with friends that are also family? Yay, they are guaranteed to take care of you should you end up in a too drunk state.) if not for this little thing:

Thorin is an affectionate drunk.

 

And he’s not ‘ _I’m happy and will tell you as much while being somewhat handsy_ ’ level of affectionate drunk. He’s ‘ _if Bilbo is somewhere even remotely close I’m never letting go and handsy won’t even begin to describe me_ ’ drunk.

And Bilbo is close because Dwalin insisted on drinking with the man who “managed to make old grumpyass even a little bit less antisocial.” Thorin is not yet drunk enough to start getting dangerously handsy, but he’s downing tequila shots with a speed that just can’t be good.

They sit at the kitchen table, Bilbo and Thorin and Dwalin. Dís is sitting on the kitchen counter, commenting the story that Dwalin is telling about their childhood. Balin is reading in the living room, having politely declined the offer of alcohol and bad jokes. He’s undoubtedly listening to their merrymaking, though.

Fíli is asleep in his room, since it’s late, and Thror had climbed the stairs as well after doing one shot. (“For good night’s sleep”, he had said, giving them all a wink and a grin.) Freja and Thrain have been gone for the whole day: they left in the morning and went to town, to get some more food and also to catch a movie together in the small theatre, apparently run by local students or something.

So it’s just four of them in the kitchen and only three of them drinking. And only two of them drunk. Or maybe one.

Because Bilbo had done the two ‘obligatory’ shots Dwalin had insisted on, and even though Dwalin has drunk almost half of the bottle, the alcohol doesn’t seem to affect him at all.

Thorin, on the other hand…

 

“ _Dííííííííís_ ”, Thorin drags his sister’s name for unnecessary long time after doing yet another shot. Bilbo considers just grabbing the bottle and running away with it before anyone does anything that they will regret the next day. “ _Why_ is your name the only one with the silly thing on the ‘i’?”

Dís snorts and sips her water. Dwalin turns to look at her, and maybe the alcohol is affecting him too, after all, because the look in his eyes is most definitely _not_ sober. “Yeah?” he presses. “Why it’s Dís but not… Frerín, or something.”

“ _Thorín_ ”, Thorin all but giggles. Bilbo sighs heavily. They are nearing the point of drunkenness that turns Thorin into a flirting mess.

Dwalin nods eagerly and then he and Thorin are toasting with their shot glasses. Thorin, who is sitting next to Bilbo (and _whose_ idea was that?), turns to him and tries to toast with their glasses too, but Bilbo just pushes his glass farther away from himself.

And then Thorin pouts. Yes. One hundred percent truthfully and definitely _pouts_. Bilbo worries his lip with his teeth and wonders what he should do.

Should he leave now, go to sleep, before Thorin is drunk enough to forget who he is and who Bilbo is and start unabashedly hitting on Bilbo? Because that has happened. Twice before they got married and thrice after it.

Or should he just sit here and let Thorin ruin all the chances he still has of winning the bet?

Alright, the bet doesn’t exactly affect Bilbo’s decisions. But the possibility of Thorin embarrassing himself does, because if Thorin ends up regretting something and therefore becoming all cranky and sulking all day long - _that’s_ going to affect Bilbo.

So. To leave or to stay? To eliminate the possibility of drunken flirting or to watch over Thorin and make sure he doesn’t do anything else as stupid--

 

“Heyyy”, Thorin says, suddenly leaning close to Bilbo, who jumps a bit in surprise. He had been lost in his thoughts, and now it’s too late to make any decisions. Because Thorin’s other hand is on his shoulder and the other on his tight. “You come here often?”

Bilbo lets his head hit the table and he groans in both embarrassment and frustration. Dwalin laughs and so does Dís. Actually, she laughs so hard she almost falls from the kitchen counter.

“Ohhh, I had forgotten how he gets when he’s drunk”, she says, sounding delighted. “It has been a long time I’ve seen him drink with other than family members in the company.”

“Yeah”, Dwalin agrees, smirking. “ _I_ never get flirted with.”

Thorin turns to look at Dwalin, hands still on Bilbo. “First of all”, he says, and his slurring slightly. “You’re my _cousin._ So. Eww.”

“Aaand?” Dís prompts, clearly enjoying this way too much.

“He’s not as pretty as this one here”, Thorin declares and tries to kiss Bilbo’s cheek, but due to Bilbo still laying his head on the table, ends up getting his mouth full of curly hair instead.

Bilbo groans again, this time louder. He lifts his head and pushes Thorin away. (And isn’t that a hard one, when you haven’t as much as hugged or held hands in more than four days.) Thorin makes a whining sound and looks hurt for a moment, but then a sudden grin appears on his face again.

“I know you!” Thorin beams. “You’re my-”

“ _Friend_ ”, Bilbo says sternly. He wants to win the bet and a (considerably large) part of him wants Thorin to be little embarrassed when he finally is forced to explain everything to his family, _but there are lines._ And letting your husband make an utter fool of himself is one of them.

“Oh”, Thorin says, sounding disappointed and looking puzzled. Dís raises her eyebrows and looks at Bilbo, but doesn’t say anything. Dwalin still hasn’t stopped laughing.

“It’s time for you to go to bed”, Bilbo decides and raises to his feet, and helps Thorin do the same. Dwalin stops laughing and opens his mouth to protest, but Dís hops off the counter and puts her hand on his shoulder.

“Good idea”, she says and nods to Bilbo. “These two are going to have a real hungover tomorrow. If they go to sleep now, it might at least be possible to live through.”

Dwalin grumbles, but is sober enough to see the logic behind Dís’ words. He stands up and goes to the living room to find his brother before going to sleep.

Dís smiles at Bilbo and Thorin before following Dwalin. “You take good care of him”, she smiles at Bilbo, and then goes to watch that his cousin really goes to sleep and doesn’t end up drinking the last of the tequila by himself.

At Dís’ teasing, Thorin turns to Bilbo with hopeful look at his eyes.

“Are you coming with me?” he asks, his face so close to Bilbo’s. “To, you know… The thing you sleep in, the- the bed?”

 

And Thorin’s breath smells just enough of alcohol that Bilbo’s _no_ is completely heartfelt.


	11. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tequila has consequences.

Thorin wakes up with a headache, and that isn’t even the worst part, not even close. The headache is actually pretty bearable when he stops to think about it. But everything else? Not so much.

It starts with an overwhelming feeling of nausea when he tries to get up from the bed. And when he lets himself fall back onto the mattress, he also suddenly finds himself both cold and sweaty. His limbs feel heavy and he just wants to hide under his blanket and ignore the outside world.

And so he does.

He shuts his eyes tightly and tries to will the disgusting feeling away. No such luck.

_Damn Dwalin and his tequila_ , Thorin thinks aggressively, and decides that the stupid tradition of getting shitfaced when they get together ends now. But that doesn’t mean much, given the fact that he makes the same decision after every time he drinks with his cousin.

Phone on the bedside table makes annoyingly sharp ping-noise, and Thorin groans into his pillow. He reaches for his phone without raising his head or opening his eyes, and he wonders whether or not he could manage to go and get a glass of water from the kitchen without throwing up. Probably not.

Thorin opens the message he had received and is momently blinded by the brightness of the screen of his phone. After his eyes have adjusted (and his headache has stopped being bearable and started being sickeningly throbbing) he can see that the message is from Bilbo.

**Bilbo:** You awake?

Thorin groans again. Typing while feeling like this isn’t an easy task. Or very desirable. He just wants to shut his eyes again and never look at the bright screen of a phone again, so he ends up just sending the thumbs up emoji. Thorin can practically _hear_ Bilbo laughing at him.

**Bilbo:** How are you feeling?

Thorin sends the thumbs down emoji this time. He waits for an another ping sound and Bilbo’s usual hangover message, unhelpful but sweet words wishing for the nausea and headache to end. But that sound never comes.

Instead there’s a knock on the door, and before he can even groan - yes, that’s what he was going to do again, _you_ try doing anything but groaning when you’re dying from a hangover - Bilbo is already inside, closing the door gently behind him. 

_Gently._ What a beautiful word. Bless Bilbo for combining that word with door-closing.

Also, bless Bilbo for having a glass of water in his other hand and painkillers in the other one. Thorin sits up on his bed as Bilbo sits down on the same bed, and takes the water gratefully. His dry throat is also feeling grateful, and Thorin is embarrassingly close to tears.

Damn, he really sucks at hangovers.

“So”, Bilbo says as he hands the painkillers to Thorin. “How much do you regret last night?”

“Uggghhh”, Thorin - _yes_ , you guessed it - groans. “I’m never drinking again.”

Bilbo laughs soft and quiet laugh, bless him again, and raises an eyebrow at Thorin. “I think I’ve heard that one before.”

Thorin snorts, and his head feels like it’s going to explode. He hopes that the painkillers will work soon.

“Alright, tell me everything”, Thorin says after he has drank all the water and sank back on his back. “As usual, I don’t remember anything. Did we do anything extremely stupid? Did _I_ do something extremely stupid? Or even remotely stupid.”

Bilbo looks at him with a funny look on his face, sets the empty glass on the bedside table, and then lies next to Thorin. “No”, he finally answers, cuddling close. “Dís and I called it a night pretty early. You two were doing shots with a speed that really predicted this.”

Thorin wraps his arms around Bilbo and nods. And then he suddenly remembers that this _isn’t_ one of his hangovers at home, and that they are at his family’s cabin, pretending to not to be- Well, exactly this. Domestic cuteness even when one of them is hangover.

Thorin must have tensed, because Bilbo starts rubbing his back soothingly. “Nobody’s here”, Bilbo assures, having guessed Thorin’s line of thought. “Or okay, Dwalin is. But Balin said he’s in the same condition as you are, so he’s not bursting into any rooms in a while.”

“Where is everyone?” Thorin asks, little bit confused.

“Fíli wanted to go swimming”, Bilbo shrugs, and Thorin doesn’t feel any less confused.

“It’s December.”

“Yes, I’m aware”, Bilbo smiles. “They went to the town, silly. I hear there’s this thing, a swimming pool I think, that’s indoors and therefore allows you to go swimming even in winter. Crazy, right?”

Thorin tries to kick Bilbo for his teasing, but his legs are tangled with the sheets and the blanket, so he has to settle for a good old-fashioned frown. “Very funny.”

“I know”, Bilbo grins, and then presses a gentle kiss on Thorin’s nose. “I’m hilarious. But. Yeah, all of your family went to the town. Your parents are swimming with Fíli, Dís is shopping for baby clothes or something as adorable, and I think Balin wanted to check some second-hand bookshop for any treasures for his shop.”

“And my grandfather?” Thorin asks, even though he really can’t find it in himself to care at the moment. His whole family could walk into the room and he wouldn’t cared. The painkillers are starting to work and he feels so tired and comfortable at the same time… He just wants to sleep this damned hangover away while cuddling with Bilbo. He has missed his husband these past days, and simply laying next to each other feels good.

“Thror? I think he went with Dís”, Bilbo hums. “Said something about wanting to be part of shopping for the soon-to-be family member. He’s going to spoil that kid, isn’t he?”

“Like he did us all, he likes to do that”, Thorin agrees, and then tries to kiss Bilbo on the lips, but his husband raises his hand between their mouths.

“Nuh-uh”, Bilbo says and shakes his head, smiling. “Your breath smells _terrible_. It’s bad enough to just lie here with you, there’s no way I’m gonna kiss you.”

And then he kisses Thorin’s forehead to show him that even though he _is_ gross and hangover, Bilbo doesn’t think he’s actually all that disgusting.

Thorin closes his eyes and prepares to drift to sleep, just enjoying the warmth that’s Bilbo against him.

Yeah, he really, _really_ missed this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want Bilbo to cuddle me too when I have a hangover, that is all.


	12. Saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is starting to get annoyed.

Thorin is starting to get annoyed.

Like seriously annoyed.

All day long, he has gotten weird looks from his family. For no reason. No. Reason. At all.

He helps his father and grandfather - who is the official arbiter of Christmas trees in Durin family - to get a Christmas tree in the morning, and for the whole time he gets sideway glances from both of them. Thror and his smirks Thorin could understand, that old man was always having an inside joke with himself. But his father? Thrain, watching Thorin carefully when he thought his son wouldn't see… That was something Thorin wasn't used to.

 

Later, when Thorin helps his mother with dinner, he decided that Freja must have said something to Thrain. Because she keeps looking at him funny just like Thror and Thrain had done earlier. And not just looking. There is smiling and weird humming involved too.

 

After witnessing this weird behaviour of his parents and his grandparent, Thorin isn't surprised when at dinner he gets weird looks from Dís and Dwalin and Balin as well. Not surprised, but still annoyed as hell.

And when dinner is over and all the Durins gather to the living room to spend time together - talking and playing cards and watching little Fíli make snowflakes from white paper with his kiddie scissors, those that barely cut even paper - Thorin just gets more and more annoyed as the night progresses. Because people. Just. Won't. Stop. Sneaking. _Looks._ At him.

 

Finally his annoyance reaches the point where someone is bound to notice. And because Thorin is, in the end, one lucky bastard, that someone is his husband and not his sister. _Or_ his cousin. God knows that Dwalin knows to be even bigger of a pest than Dís, and that Balin’s speeches about ‘finding your inner peace’ just get Thorin more riled up.

Thorin picks his phone out of his pocket when he feels it vibrating. The text on the screen tells he has one new message.

**Bilbo:** You OK?

Thorin sighs and types his answer, _Why is everyone acting so weird today?_

Bilbo's phone doesn't ping or buzz, but Thorin can see him taking his phone out of his pocket on the other side of the room nevertheless. He’s once again talking with Balin, who had apparently recognized Bilbo’s name the other day, having read (and enjoyed) his books. Now Balin is probably trying to get Bilbo to do a signing in his store or something.

Thorin’s phone buzzes again. He looks down at his phone and frowns when he reads the message.

**Bilbo:** I’m winning the bet. That’s why.

Thorin considers this and glances around the room. Dwalin and Dís are losing horribly in poker to Freja, and Thror and Thrain are participating in the arts and crafts hour led by the youngest family member. There is no way any of them knows anything. Dís and Freja might _think_ they know something, but Thorin is pretty sure both of them are on the wrong track. Maybe something Bilbo has said has made Dís and Freja think something, but Thorin is absolutely sure that _he_ has not given anything away. So if anyone is guessing anything, it’s only about Bilbo’s feelings.

For God’s sake, Thorin hasn’t even _talked_ with Bilbo in almost three days as far as his family is concerned, since they all think Thorin spent his Friday alone and miserably sleeping off his hangover., and before that-

...oh, _right_ , Bilbo was drinking with him and Dwalin.

Or was he? Dís definitely was there (or _was_ she...?), so Bilbo must have been too. But, then again, Balin hadn’t drank with them. _And_ Bilbo _didn’t_ have a hangover. So…?

Damn, Thorin really can’t remember anything from Thursday night. It’s frustrating, but not uncommon. It’s usually like this when he gets properly drunk: complete blank. No memory of anything.

But. _If_ he had done something not-so-smart, either Dís or Dwalin would’ve told him. Repeatedly. In a tone that suggests that he’s an embarrassing moron, and that his sister and cousin will never let him forget anything stupid he does. 

 

_Don’t believe you_ , Thorin texts back to Bilbo.

 

“Alright, time to stop working”, announces Dís, who has left the poker table and sits down on the sofa, right next to Thorin. She emphasizes her words with shoving Thorin playfully. “You’re on a vacation. I’m sure you’ve hired people who can keep the business running without you for a few weeks.”

Thorin just shrugs. He doesn’t want Dís to know that he is texting to Bilbo, and not one of his employees. Who really _do_ know how to do their jobs while Thorin is gone, even if the firm is in the middle of a pretty big case at the moment…

No. Thorin stops that line of thought with a stern shake of his head. He really _is_ on a vacation. The first after his and Bilbo’s ‘honeymoon’ (a weekend trip to New London, yeah, _really_ ) actually. So he really is going to enjoy his work-free time.

“You done playing cards?” Thorin asks, changing the topic, and Dís starts laughing.

“Yeah”, she says and glances at Freja and Dwalin, who are still playing. “I know when I’m fighting a losing fight. Should’ve learned not to even try win against mom, though.”

Thorin snorts. “Mom does end up winning every and all games she starts playing.”

“Must be where I got it from”, Dís says and winks at Thorin. “But apprentice can’t beat the master.”

“You should maybe tell that to Dwalin”, Thorin smiles and nods his head at the direction of their cousin, who is frowning at his cards in a way that means that he isn’t giving up even though he really should have done it couple of hands ago. Thorin shakes his head, amused. “He really should learn to admit when _he’s_ fighting a losing fight.”

And then.

Then Dís gives him one of those annoying, strange looks.

“Yeah, he really should”, Dís says with a smile, looking Thorin straightly in the eyes. “He really should.”


	13. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli and Thorin spend the day together, and Dís uses language unfit for children.

Sunday goes by with far less weird looks, but it still isn’t any less confusing than Saturday.

Thorin is starting to be done with the awkward atmosphere that seems to be surrounding him whenever he’s near any of his family members. Short for Fíli, of course. The small boy with Vili’s hair and smile is the only family member that doesn’t seem like he knows something about Thorin that Thorin himself doesn’t yet know.

So, naturally, Fíli is the one family member Thorin spends his Sunday with.

First is watching the morning cartoon, then comes the hide and seek in the small patch of forest behind the cabin. After that, hot cocoa in the kitchen. And finally, drawing with crayons in the middle of the living room floor.

Fíli has just finished drawing something that very closely represents a purple sun and Thorin is colouring his drawing of a Christmas tree with a green crayon, when Dís comes to the living room and casually lays down on her back the floor right next to them.

“Ugghh”, she says informatively, and rubs her pregnant stomach. “This little bastard is kicking so fudging much today.”

“Dís!” Thorin frowns and casts a meaningful glance at Fíli who has started drawing a picture of a yellow snowman, because even if he has his faults, he doesn’t approve such choice of words around children.

“What? I used fudge instead of-”, Dís says, defensively, but then then stops and bursts into laughter. “Oh, you mean bastard. Well, it _is_ technically true. You know, since we used sperm donator and all.”

“Please, don’t talk about sperm when I’m around”, Thorin begs of his sister, but with little luck. Dís, the thirty-year-old mother of one child and pregnant with another, suddenly turns into a two-year-old who has learned a new word and starts chanting ‘sperm’ with a childish grin on her face.

This, of course, results in one actual two-year-old learning a new word, and Thorin learns just how alike Dís and Fíli are even though the two aren’t biologically related.

“Well”, Thorin says after the mother and the son finally stop chanting about men’s bodily fluids. “He sure is your son.”

“I know”, Dís beams and reaches to ruffle his son’s hair. Fíli squeals and escapes his mother’s hand to return to the drawing. Dís watches him with a much more serious expression, if not any less fond, and says to Thorin: “I was afraid for a while, you know, _before_. You just hear all these horror stories about adoptions that don’t work out in the end, where the parent and the child never bond… God, was I afraid for a while.”

Thorin nods sympathetically, and Dís shakes her head before continuing, “But then...He was born I got to hold him in my arms and he just looked _so much_ like Vili… Of course it isn’t always easy and sometimes I’m still afraid - like this pregnancy, holy crap, it’s so _terrifying_ from time to time - but I wouldn’t change it for anything. I love my family so much. _All_ my family.”

Thorin feels a bit uneasy in the sudden emotional mood, and he has to blink a couple of times to prevent his eyes from watering, but he still can’t help but smile at his sister.

Dís smiles back. “You should try it too, you know. The family thing.”

Thorin snorts, but he looks at Fíli and thinks about how children could be nice. When he and Bilbo have been married for a little longer. They haven’t talked about adoption or anything yet, but maybe, _maybe_ , later. Later. Because now that Dís and Bilbo’s cousin were both pregnant, there would be enough uncle duties in the future to cure any baby fever they might catch.

“Oh, you know how Bilbo went to a walk with grandpa today?” Dís asks suddenly, and Thorin turns to look back at his sister with raised eyebrows. 

“Yes”, he says, puzzled as why Dís is bringing this up.

“Well, he got some serious talk from grandpa”, Dís smirks. 

“Serious talk?” Thorin raises his eyebrows. ‘Serious talk’ sounds like a Bilbo has gotten scolded by Thror, but that just sounds weird. Because why would Bilbo get scolded by Thror? Especially when Thror doesn’t really scold anyone.

“Yeah”, Dís just says, not elaborating any further. “Ask about it from Bilbo yourself.”

And then Dís sits up and asks Fíli to show her what he’s drawing. Thorin watches them talk and laugh, and he realizes that he has missed this. His sister and his nephew and just his whole family. 

He really haven’t grown so distant from them on purpose. It just had happened. But maybe now that Bilbo has gotten to known and befriended his family members, he will actually start keeping in touch with them properly. 

He’d really like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. I'm not actually 100% happy with this chapter (I had some difficulties writing the ending) & I'd probably write it again, but I have no time since I have run out of pre-written chapters and now I'm just writing the next day's chapter every day. Living on the edge, yo. (I have outlines ready for every chapter, so there's no real living on the edge though.)
> 
> On a different note, we are now officially more than halfway through this fic! And I just wanted to thank you all so, so much. I've been blown away by how amazing you all are. I mean, you have left over hundred comments and over three hundred kudos ?? Woah. Also, the comments you've been leaving? Every single one makes my day. You've been super nice & I love to hear what you've liked or what you think will happen next.
> 
> So. Thank you. ❤ You're the best.
> 
>  
> 
> And hey! To celebrate this halfway-through-with-this-silly-fic occasion, I've put this fic as the first part of _Holiday Series_ for two reasons. Reason one: I couldn't think of a better name. Laaaame, I know. Reason two: more is coming. I've talked about it w/ couple of you in the comments, but yes, after we are done with Christmas, you don't have to be sad about this fic ending. There's going to be at least New Year's fic on New Year's Eve (Thorin and Bilbo _are_ going to Primula's and Drogo's party, after all. And the bisexual power couple is meeting Thorin for the first time!)  & the story of Thorin and Bilbo met. With that one I have no idea when it will come, because next spring will be full of applying for universities for me, but it will come.


	14. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you in love with him?”

Bilbo isn’t very sure about himself winning the bet anymore.

He’s sure that Thorin isn’t going to win either, or if he will, it’s not how he wants to win. Because Thorin’s family is clearly suspecting something. It just isn’t the fact that they are together. Not at all.

Thror talked to Bilbo yesterday, and… Well, Bilbo can’t think of any other word to describe the discussion than _weird_. It wasn’t exactly a ‘hurt-my-grandson-and-you-will-be-dead’ talk, and it wasn’t a ‘you-two-belong-to-each-other-just-kiss-and-make-babies-already’ talk either. It was something between those two, all cleverly disguised as a rousing speech about the beauty of the seasons changing. Threatening and encouraging in a way that leaves you full of questions.

It was truly the crown jewel of all serious talks from your elders, and if Bilbo is being honest to himself, he was kind of inspired it. Like, that kind of speeches Bilbo wants to give to his children and grandchildren one day.

 

So. It’s not Thorin and Bilbo being together that Thorin’s family suspects, but some kind of mutual pining. It doesn't help Bilbo to win the bet, but there was still a chance. He could try and get Thorin to give up. If his family was already guessing that their feelings - that Bilbo hadn't bothered to hide, because what good that would've been to the bet - were mutual, Thorin couldn't be that far away from breaking.

Bilbo would just have to be patient for few more days. Try and drop more hints about the how he knew Thorin better than a friend would've, and simultaneously try to get Thorin to get tired of pretending once and for all. 

If only there was some kind of way to make Thorin jealous, for example… Bilbo spending time with Balin had clearly made Thorin frustrated, but jealousy wasn't the right word. Not when there wasn't any kind of tension between Bilbo and Balin at all. Thorin's cousin clearly was more than happy to spend his life without any kind of companion by his side.

 

Bilbo gets snapped out of his thoughts when Freja walks into the kitchen where he is reading his emails. (His editor had sent a short message to arrange a meeting for them in the beginning of January to speak about the chances that would have to be done to the manuscript.) Freja seems to be itching to say something to him, so Bilbo raises his gaze from his laptop, and smiles at her.

“What is it, Freja?” Bilbo asks, when she still doesn't say anything, but just keeps fidgeting a bit nervously.

“I'm not bothering you or anything?” Freja asks in turn when she sits down on the opposite side of the table as Bilbo. He shakes his head, smiling, and Freja finally answers to his smile with one of her own.

“I just wanted to say that…” Freja stops to search for words. “Look. I know how stubborn my son can be. You shouldn't let that prevent you.”

“I… won't?” Bilbo says, raising an eyebrow. Freja nodded, and then then rose from her seat before leaving the kitchen.

Bilbo is left alone, feeling both a bit baffled and deeply amused. He definitely wants to be a part of this family.

 

As Monday progresses, it turns out that Freja isn't the only one who has something to say to Bilbo.

After dinner is over, Dís stops Bilbo from joining Balin and Thrain in the living room by grabbing his sleeve. Bilbo turns to her with confused expression.

“I need fresh air”, Dís just says, leading Bilbo to the hall instead. “Keep me company.”

And he does. Because if he has learned anything in the past eight days, it's that saying no to Dís Durin isn't quite that simple.

 

“He’s a stubborn ass, you know”, Dís says when they get outside and sit down on the bench on the cabin’s terrace.

Bilbo snorts, and doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to ask who Dís is talking about, but he also has nothing to comment to that.

“Yeah, he’s stubborn alright”, Dís continues. “He can be blind and inconsiderate and rude. He’s proud and uncouth-”

“Alright”, Bilbo interrupts, raising his hand in the air. He might be supposed to pretend not to be Thorin’s husband, but that doesn’t mean he has suddenly _being_ that. And he’d be damned if he’d just sit and listen when someone insults his husband. Family member or not. “I think that’s more than enough.”

Dís doesn’t seem the least bit faltered. She just smiles at Bilbo. “ _But_ he is also loyal and kind and considerate, and he cares _so_ much”, Dís says. “And I think you know that already.”

“I- _yes_ -”, Bilbo starts, but gets interrupted by Dís’ sudden question:

“Are you in love with him?”

Bilbo’s mouth snaps shut, and his mind goes blank. He has no idea what to answer, because _yes_ , of course he does, but he isn’t so sure about what the bet rules would say about admitting something like that to Thorin’s sister, and- 

And. He’s admittedly a bit annoyed, because who just asks that out of the blue? 

Maybe it’s common for family members to look after each other in ways that include questioning interested outside parties right after shit-talking the family member in question, maybe it’s not. Bilbo wouldn’t know. And either way, he still has no idea what to answer.

 

But it turns out that he doesn’t have to decide what to say. He doesn’t have to say anything at all, actually.

“Good”, Dís just says before going back inside. Her expression suggests that she knows something that Bilbo doesn’t, and that she has some splendid plan all thought out.

After the door clicks as it closes behind her, Bilbo sighs and buries his face in his hands. Dís is most likely on the wrong track with her suspicions, and if she actually is going to put some plan into action…

Well, he’s just forced to wait and see. And hope that whatever happens will work out in his benefit. Maybe he’s lucky and things won’t get even more complicated than they are now. Because pretending not to be married is enough of a hassle to Bilbo’s liking. Too much, even.

He takes a deep breath and sighs again before raising up and going back inside. This is all being a bit confusing and very tiring. _Maybe_ , Bilbo thinks to himself with almost bitter humour, _that’s what being a Durin is._

And if all he has learned about Thorin in these past ten months he has known him is anything to go by, it probably is.


	15. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know I’m gay, okay.”

On Tuesday, Thorin has three conversations he thinks he will never forget.

 

First conversation takes place before lunch, and it’s the most amusing thing that has happened in weeks.

Thorin is washing the pan he used to cook some eggs and bacon for breakfast when Freja comes to kitchen and sits on the kitchen counter to watch her son do dishes. Thorin raises his eyebrows at her, his arms elbow deep in soapy water. 

“Did you know that it took me two years to realize that I liked your father more than just as a fiend?” Freja asks, nodding along her words emphatically. Thorin stares at her.

“No?” he answers questioningly. 

“Well, it did”, Freja says. “And it’s okay, you know, if it takes time. But it’s still always nicer if you figure it out sooner.”

And before he can say anything, she hops off the counter and leaves the kitchen. Thorin continues washing washing the pan, chuckling to himself.

 

The second conversation takes place after lunch, and it’s not quite as amusing.

“Don’t walk through your life your eyes closed”, Thror says and claps Thorin on the back. They are outside the cabin, sitting on the bench and smoking pipe. Thorin accidentally inhales too much smoke because of the clap and gets a coughing fit.

“What?” Thorin asks, once he gets the coughing under control and he wipes tears from his eyes.

“Don’t let good things go to waste just because you’re too dumb to realize them”, Thror continue, ignoring Thorin’s suffer with burning throat and lungs. “And I think you’re having something really good.”

“I know”, Thorin coughs, eyes still watery.

“I don’t think you do”, Thror waves him off and finishes his pipe, smiling a bit too smugly to Thorin’s liking. Like he knows something Thorin doesn’t. Even though he really, really doesn’t.

But that, of course, isn’t Thror’s fault. Thorin knows he has something good going on. He knows it and he has known it for a while. _That’s_ why he married Bilbo so soon. 

“Think about what I said”, Thror says when he opens the door to go inside. “And really try to open your eyes.”

The door closes behind him, and Thorin sighs heavily. It’s endearing, really, how his family is looking after him. But it’s also a little bit annoying. He’s a grown man and he can take care of himself. He can live his own life. There’s no reason for his family to intervene so.

( _Yeah, no reason at all_ , says a nagging voice at the back of his head, _that’s why you’re_ a grown man _who pretends not to be married because he’s too_ awkward _to tell his family that he married the love of his life_.)

 

The third conversation takes place after dinner, and it’s even less amusing. In fact, it’s not amusing at all.

It’s Dís, unsurprisingly, who is the next on line to give advice to Thorin. Unsurprisingly she’s also much more forward than their mother and grandfather. Subtlety has just lessened and lessened generation by generation.

“Why”, Dís says when she stops Thorin from going for a pipe when he’s done with his dish duty after dinner. “Are you not banging Bilbo Baggins?”

Thorin stares at his sister, utterly unimpressed. He has absolutely no idea how Fíli’s first word _was_ mom when Dís talks like that. If the new kid’s first word won’t be something inappropriate, Thorin will eat his own tongue. There’s no chance in hell Dís and Vili are having that much luck twice in a row if Dís doesn’t clean up her language.

“Is it because of some stupid straight guy ‘no homo’ bullshit?” Dís continues when Thorin doesn’t answer. “I realize that admitting this kind of thing can be hard, _I do_ , but seriously Thorin. Get your head out off your ass and admit you’re gay for that curly-haired writer-”

Thorin bursts into laughter.

(Okay. Maybe this third conversation is a bit amusing.)

“I know I’m gay, okay”, Thorin manages between fits of laughter. Dís looks baffled. “It doesn’t mean I’m in love with my best friend.”

Even though it totally does.

Dís finally gets over her surprise.“Thorin, you can’t possibly be so deep in denial-”

“I’M _NOT_ IN LOVE WITH BILBO BAGGINS!” Thorin raises his voice over Dís’. Even though he totally is. Dís opens her mouth to protest, but Thorin stops her by raising his hand.

“I’m not in love with him, okay?” he says. “I’d know if I was. I could admit that to myself. And do you know why? Because he’s _a great guy._ Just the kind you fall in love with and get married to. I wouldn’t deny having feelings for him.”

And he really hadn’t. At least not after they got past the whole can’t-even-talk-with-you-without-yelling phase that they had at beginning.

“Okay, okay”, Dís says, looking almost impressed. Impressed, not convinced. “I’m leaving you alone. But I gotta say, you go awful lengths just to stay in denial.”

With that, Dís is gone, and Thorin is free to go outside and enjoy his pipe. And because he’s absolutely done with his family, he does just that.

 

When he gets on the terrace, Thorin finds Bilbo sitting on the bench, enjoying his own pipe. Thorin sits down next to his husband, and has a conversation that he probably won’t remember in a couple of years time.

But that’s only because the conversation isn’t weirdly amusing or seriously annoying. It’s a nice, comfortable conversation between husbands having a pipe. Just like so many other, nice, comfortable conversations between husbands having a pipe. Just like so many other conversations they’ve had, and will have.

“Rough day?” Bilbo asks, smiling around the stem of his pipe. Thorin just grunts and keeps trying to light a match to light his pipe. Bilbo chuckles. “Have any interesting conversations with your family members?”

“You too?” Thorin raises an eyebrow at Bilbo, who nods, still looking a lot more amused than Thorin.

“One talk from your grandfather on Sunday, one from your sister yesterday”, Bilbo says. “And one from your father today.”

“My _father_?” Thorin asks, impressed. It’s not often that Thrain gets involved in his children’s business. His family must really be invested in this thing. “I’m sorry. You still sure you want to be part of this family?”

“A bit too late for me to change my mind about that”, Bilbo teases, bumbing his shoulder into Thorin’s side. “I’m one of you already on paper.”

“True”, Thorin hums, and then pecks Bilbo on the cheek because they are alone on the terrace and he has missed these conversations. The affectionate teasing. “I’m still sorry though. My family’s kind of crazy. But then again, you’re too.”

“Oh, shove it already”, Bilbo snorts, and shoves Thorin himself.

Thorin laughs fondly.

“Yeah”, he smiles. “Definitely a Durin.”


	16. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re not worried about young eyes seeing explicit cuddling?” Bilbo asks, almost whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is nothing but domestic fluff, okay? Brush your teeth immediately after reading to avoid rotting.

It’s on Wednesday that it comes obvious that Thorin’s family isn’t going to let this thing go only with few serious talks. Nu-uh, they have _a plan_.

This is obvious for the following three reasons:

1) At breakfast table Balin and Dwalin announce that they are going to spend the whole day fishing, even though the weather is _terrible_ for fishing, and Balin _hates_ fish. Plus, they call it ‘brotherly bonding time’, like they already weren’t as close as siblings can be without being twins.

2) Thror goes to ‘meet some friend’ without inviting this friend to the cabin first, like he normally does.

3) Freja and Thrain tell everyone - loudly - that after lunch they are going to run some errands in town. That take the whole day. And are somehow absolutely necessary even though all things that are needed for Christmas have already been purchased.

 

The only one who has a real reason to disappear is Dís. She really is going to pick up her wife from the closest airport, which, given the relatively isolated location of the cabin, is not that close. So leaving Fíli behind and asking Thorin and Bilbo to look after him is actually justifiable.

But that’s about it of justifiable actions of the Durin family. Everything else is obviously a scheme to get Thorin and Bilbo together. (And it’s very likely that this plan was Dís’ idea, so her actions can’t be marked down as innocent, however justifiable they might be.)

Thorin is unable to decide whether it’s endearing and somewhat hilarious _or_ annoying and alarmingly abusing privacy. He’s just glad he’s not the only one noticing his family’s ploys.

 

“Your family is trying to set us up”, Bilbo says after everybody has left, and they sit side by side on the living room couch, watching Fíli build a kid’s puzzle. He has his tiny tongue out in concentration, and his brows are furrowed.

“Seems like it”, Thorin sighs and leans back on the couch, letting his whole body loosen up. Bilbo follows him, raising his feet on the couch and curling up against his side. Thorin wraps his right arm around him.

“You’re not worried about young eyes seeing explicit cuddling?” Bilbo asks, almost whispers. Thorin snorts and rolls his eyes.

“His parents are Dís and Vili”, Thorin says. “They are the cuddliest couple there is. You’ll see tomorrow.”

Bilbo snorts too. “Not what I meant”, he says, shaking his head at Thorin. “You take your bets seriously. You don’t think he’ll tell his mother that we cuddled?”

Thorin considers this for a moment, then shakes his head slowly. “No, I don’t think so. I mean, cuddling is the norm for him. It’s what family does. I don’t think he’s going to report anything so regular to Dís.”

“Oh, am I family then?” Bilbo asks, eyes twinkling with fond amusement.

“You’re spending Christmas at the _family_ cabin”, Thorin muses. “By kid logic that makes you family.”

“Not just by kid logic”, Bilbo snorts. “Your family definitely shares my opinion of the plausibility of bringing a friend to the family cabin if they are setting us up.”

“Those two are in no way related!” Thorin claims. “They are trying to set us up because you’ve been hinting that you like me, and because my family wants me to settle down like my sister has.”

Bilbo rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because you have in _no way_ been giving out the fact that you’re ten kids of completely gone for me.”

“I haven’t!” Thorin insists. “The fact that _you_ couldn’t control your heart eyes even if you wanted, doesn’t mean I can’t either.”

“Sure”, Bilbo scoffs and pecks a kiss on Thorin’s cheek before raising up from the couch, and going to Fíli to compliment him on his puzzle building abilities.

Thorin closes his eyes and decides that this is a great time to take a nap.

 

After the afternoon nap, that Bilbo and Fíli joined as well, follows dinner. And since they have a two-year-old to feed, Thorin and Bilbo end up making spaghetti with meatballs and tomato sauce. Not the favourite dish of any self-respecting adult, but a food that every kid enjoys. If for not anything else, then just for its suitability for throwing all over the place.

(And when has Thorin been a self-respecting adult? He likes spaghetti. Always has and most likely always will. It tastes good and is simple enough for even a hopeless cause like him to cook.)

“Spaghetti!” Fíli rejoices when he realizes what's going to be for dinner. Bilbo, who is in the middle of making the meatballs, smiles and nods.

“You like spaghetti?” he asks from the little boy, and Thorin snorts when Fíli starts chanting ‘ _yes, yes, yes_ ’ and banging the table with his tiny fists.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a kid who didn’t like spaghetti”, Thorin muses, and Bilbo raises his eyebrows at him.

“You’ve met a lot of kids?” Bilbo asks. Thorin shrugs.

“Well no. But you know what I mean.”

It’s quiet after that, if you don’t count the giggling of Fíli, who has discovered how to take his socks off while sitting in a highchair. Bilbo returns to shaping the meatballs, and Thorin chops some tomatoes and a cucumber to fill the day’s obligatory vegetable portion.

“You ever think about it?” Bilbo asks suddenly, and Thorin raises his gaze from the cucumber he’s slicing.

“What?” Thorin asks, lowering his gaze again and continuing the slicing. “Meeting a lot of kids?”

Thorin doesn’t raise his gaze again, but he imagines that Bilbo rolls his eyes before saying, “No. Having kids.” His voice is quiet, almost shy and hesitant, and Thorin understands that feeling so well. One of the cons of getting married quickly is that you probably haven’t talked about all of the things that couples usually talk about before getting married.

“Sometimes”, Thorin admits. “Sometime. Not yet, since we’ve...”

“Only been together for so long”, Bilbo completes the sentence Thorin leaves hanging in the air. Thorin looks at him, and can’t help but answer the soft smile on his husband’s face. “Yeah. Me too.”

Thorin nods thoughtfully, and then smiles at the sliced cucumber. He takes one piece and gives it to giggling Fíli to eat, watching the boy sink his teeth into the vegetable. Bilbo comes to his side, wrapping his arm around Thorin’s waist.

“Sometime”, Bilbo says, smile in his voice. Thorin doesn’t answer, but he can feel a nice warmness in his chest.

Sometime.


	17. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Dís, language,_ please _.”_
> 
> Dís POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing I also can't _not_ write when given the chance: domestic lesbians. ~~and more fluff~~

Dís wakes up to the extreme discomfort: the kicking of a _very_ active baby. She sighs heavily, and accepts that she’s unable to find a comfortable position without leaving the warmth of the bed and Vili curled up around her. Though it won’t be long before she’s forced to do just that, since the baby seems to be successfully kicking her bladder again.

Refusing to suffer alone, Dís nudges her wife awake. Vili blinks sleepily, raising her head from the crook of Dís’ neck, and groans.

“What time is it?” she mutters in Dís’ skin, and Dís glances at the digital alarm clock on the bedside table.

“Half past six”, Dís reads the time, and chuckles when Vili groans again. She has gotten used to feeling a bit sleep deprived all the time: the baby is constantly kicking and keeping her up at night. But Vili… well, for one, she has spent the last month in Europe, doing some marketing bullshit for her company, so she has had the luxury of sleeping full nights. 

But that’s over now. This trip to Europe was the last one, and now she’s going to work from home until the new baby is old enough to go to daycare with Fíli, who will start sometime next year, so he will get to play with kids of his own age.

“Ughhh, what an ungodly hour”, Vili complains, and doesn’t make a move to rise up. In fact she only tightens her hold of Dís’ upper body. “Is lil’ Vis kicking?”

“This baby is still not going to be called Vis”, Dís snorts. At the early stages of her pregnancy they had decided that the baby would be named either Kíli or Vis, but when she entered the third trimester, Dís had decided that there was no way in hell this baby would be Vis, not even if it was a girl. (They didn’t know the sex of the baby. Hadn’t asked. Partly because they wanted it to be a surprise, but mostly because they both thought it shouldn’t and didn’t matter.)

“Aww, but I like Vis”, Vili complains for the thousandth time. “It’s a nice combination of our names, much nicer than Fíli and Kíli, which are basically my name with a different initial and the accent from your i.”

“ _And_ it means force and power”, Dís sighs, rubbing her belly when the baby kicks again. Kili. _Kili_ kicks again. Because that will be the name of the baby, no questions about it. It’s fine for a gender-neutral name and everything. “The kid is a mighty force already with it’s kicking. We don’t want to tempt the fate and name it _Vis_ of all things.”

Vili just hums at that, nuzzling closer. Dís tangles her hand in her wife’s hair and enjoys the quiet that is doomed to end very soon. Fíli has never been the one to sleep long.

 

And indeed it’s only maybe half an hour before the bedroom door opens, and a very excited two-year old rushes in and jumps on the bed, crawling between them.

“Mom!” Fíli rejoices, and pokes Vili until she wakes up again, having dozed off with Dís petting her hair.

“Hey, little mosquito”, Vili smiles and lets Fíli kiss her on the cheek. It’s watery and sloppy kiss, like all of the kids’ kisses usually are. “Did you miss me?”

“‘m NOT a mosquito”, the boy pouts, and gives his mother a very disappointed look.

“Could’ve fooled me”, Vili kisses Fíli’s forehead. “What with you whining like that and all.”

“Me no whine”, Fíli furrows his eyebrows and leans away from the kisses Vili keeps giving him.

It’s all cute and domestic, and Dís can’t take it anymore. This is exactly what she has missed, but she also needs to pee really badly. So she gently bumps Vili’s and Fíli’s heads together, and says: “Alright Mr. and Mrs. Durin, time to stop this squabbling. _I_ have to pay a visit to the bathroom, and after that we’re having breakfast.”

“Breakfast!” Fíli screams, and is gone in a blink of an eye, disappearing from the bedroom to most likely the kitchen. Vili and Dís both fondly watch him run off, and Vili kisses Dís gently on the lips before changing her pajamas into jeans and a t-shirt, and going after him.

“See you in the kitchen”, Vili smiles when she pulls the shirt over her head. “Have fun in the bathroom.”

“Always do”, Dís snorts.

 

Breakfast is always a hassle with a two-year-old. Especially when you have overexcited grandparents and great-grandparents ‘helping’ you.

It also doesn’t help that Fíli enjoys the hassle immensely. 

The way Freja cuts at least three different fruits into tiny pieces for him to eat? The way Thrain keeps slipping him pieces of his bacon and eggs? The way Thror makes him porridge every morning?

Fíli _loves_ it.

At home with Dís and Vili he only gets a bowl of cereal and a piece of toast. But here at the family cabin? Whatever he says he wants, he will get. It makes Dís want to smile and to rip her hair out at the same time.

She loves how her whole family is set on spoiling her kid, but she also hates how her whole family is set on spoiling her kid. And for whatever reason, the breakfast time seems to be the worst.

Maybe it’s a blessing that Thorin sleeps so late, because he’s maybe the worst of them all, incapable of saying no to anything Fíli asks. He has always had a fondness for everything small and cute.

 

“Oh, you must be Dís’ wife!”

 

...speaking of small and cute and the subject of Thorin’s fondness.

“Vili”, Vili confirms, and takes the hand that Bilbo is offering her with a warm smile. “Nice to meet you. “Bilbo Baggins, I presume.”

There is a weird look in Bilbo’s eyes at his name, but he still smiles and nods. “I’ve hear a lot of you.”

“Knowing my wife, only bad things”, Vili grins, and glimpses at Dís. Dís smiles at her, shaking her head fondly. “And I’ve heard quite a lot of you too.”

Bilbo sits at the breakfast table, and pours himself a cup of the tea that Dís has been drinking during this pregnancy. “Is it so?” he asks, glimpsing at Dís too. “Knowing your wife, only bad things.”

“Oh, the worst!” Vili grins, and then gives Dís a look that says, _Holy shit! You weren’t lying. He_ is _cute and nice. Damn._

Dís smirks in response. Vili should’ve known by now that she’s always right when it comes to things like her brother’s love life.

 

Later, after lunch, Dís is able to steal a moment alone with her wife.

Fíli is with Bilbo and Thorin, playing some weird clapping game that Bilbo apparently taught him yesterday, Thror and Thrain have teamed up to beat Balin in chess (impossible), and Freja has assigned Dwalin on dish duty with her.

“So”, Vili says when they get their bedroom, which is, undoubtedly, the best place to have private conversations in a cabin full of Durins. “What _is_ your plan?”

“So you agree there should be a plan?” Dís asks, and raises an eyebrow even though she’s not entirely surprised. Vili is not as eager to meddle with people’s lives as she is, but this situation with Bilbo and Thorin is something that truly calls for bigger guns. And however ‘morally uncompromising’, Vili isn’t blind either.

“Yes”, Vili nods. “I didn’t believe you based on your texts, I know, but… Seeing those two together? What. The. Heck. Did you _hear_ them bickering when Freja made them set the table together? God, they’re almost as married as we are.”

“I know right?” Dís grins. “I don’t know what my brother is _doing_. He says he doesn’t like him like that, but the _looks_ he keeps giving him... “

Vili nods solemnly. “So. What is your plan?”

“I don’t know!” Dís groans at that. “I thought that leaving them alone with Fíli yesterday would do it - the tension between them could be cut with a knife, after all - but… nothing. They’re so much more stubborn than I would’ve imagined. And that’s saying a lot. Other one of them _is_ Thorin.”

Vili looks thoughtful for a moment. Then her face lits up with an idea.

“Oh, I know!” she says, but then looks hesitant. “No, no… You’ve probably thought about it already. And if you haven’t… well, it might be better just-”

“What?” Dís stops her wife’s babbling. “What is the idea that makes your morally uncompromised ass this nervous?”

“Dís, language, _please_ ”, Vili reminds, and then answers Dís question, worrying her lip with her teeth. “You could always call your brother.”

“Call him? If he doesn’t take my advice face to-”, Dís starts before her brain turns on. Then she realizes how blind she has been.

Call Frerin. _Oh_.

It’s so simple, and yet so genius… Frerin, who is arriving tomorrow, and who is the last family member Bilbo hasn’t met.

Frerin, who is probably even less morally uncompromised than Dís is.

It’s perfect.

“I could kiss you”, Dís declares, and then does just that. When they pull away from the kiss, little short breathed, she shakes her head and breathes out, “I can’t believe I didn’t think about that before.”

“What? Kissing me? Yeah, me neither”, Vili teases, and kisses Dís on the nose when she pokes her between the ribs. “It’s the pregnancy making your brain all fuzzy. Vis doesn’t want you making evil plans.”

“Kíli”, Dís corrects, and then snorts. Yeah, maybe it is the baby making her forget about the obvious solution to a desperate issue. 

It might be a good sign, though. Perhaps the baby will get Vili’s morally uncompromised nature despite being carried by Dís. That’d be nice. Dís doesn’t have any problem with _being_ the way she is, but she doesn’t envy her parents for having to raise her. And Frerin. At the same time.

The thought of having to raise two sly kids makes Dís shudder, and she hopes that karma isn’t real, because it it is, Fíli and Kíli will be a pair of menaces.

Still. Even the fear of karma can’t stop her from making the phone call she’s about to make. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

And Frerin truly is _the_ desperatest.


	18. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ooh, so Bilbo here is a free man?” Frerin asks, and suddenly there is an arm around Bilbo’s shoulders. Bilbo has to blink couple of times. This seems almost too easy.
> 
> “Sure am”, Bilbo smiles after he gets a hold of himself. He turns to look at Thorin pointedly when he says, “Free as a bird.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what you've all been waiting for. Frerin + shameless flirting. ~~and there's more to come in the next chapters~~

Bilbo has heard a lot of things about Frerin Durin.

When asked about Frerin, Thorin answers with a snort and an eye roll. If he’s on talkative mood, he might even describe his younger brother as the human equivalent of the Rickroll meme. (Thorin only knows about the meme because of Frerin’s emails.)

Thror gets a weird smile, like he’s remembering something from years ago, and he shakes his head, saying “He reminds me of me in my early years”, in a fond tone.

Balin refuses to describe Frerin. If you ask him, he just says ‘No’, and walks away.

Freja and Thrain share that look the parents of wild children often share. The look equally full of love and terror.

“He’s a sweetheart”, says Thrain. 

“He’s a tornado on two feet”, says Freja.

“But really, he’s a sweetheart”, she adds after a moment of silence.

Dwalin bursts into laughter, and can’t give a real answer, because he’s unable to control that laughter.

When he hears Frerin’s name, Fíli starts automatically jumping up and down, waiting for whatever surprise his ‘Cool Uncle’ is going to show up with this time.

Dís gets the widest grin when she talks about Frerin, describing him as the worst and the best person in the world.

Vili, the most sensible one of the Durins - being one only by marriage - shakes her head, smiling, and says, “Run. Run when you still can.”

(And then she lets a little giggle before saying, “Nah, seriously. He’s cool. He’s _a Durin_ , but he’s cool.”)

Bilbo has heard a lot of things about Frerin Durin, but none of those things could prepare him for what Frerin Durin turns out to be: 

The answer to his prayers.

 

Frerin arrives in the morning, bursting through the front door of the cabin, and lifting Fíli up and spinning him around when the boy runs to him. After Fíli is back on the ground, there is kisses and hugs between family members, and also a lot of jokes and teasing.

Bilbo, not wanting to disturb the family reunion, stays aside and just watches the Durins with a smile on his face. _Next time_ , he promises himself, _next time there is a Durin family reunion, I’m part of it._

After the hugs and hello’s have been exchanged, they all head to the living room. Bilbo is just about to follow Freja and Balin, when Frerin steps in front of him, smirking.

“Well _hello_ to _you_ ”, he says, and Bilbo has to admit that handsomeness _is_ a Durin family trait. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced yet. Frerin Durin.”

Bilbo takes the hand that is offered to him feeling a little bit flustered. Because he might have been planning on making Thorin jealous, and here is Frerin Durin, clearly ready to flirt with anyone, but _damn_. Being closer to forty than thirty, and not exactly the most outgoing person, it’s not often that Bilbo gets flirted with. “Bilbo Baggins.”

“Wonderful!” Frerin grins a boyish grin, and then drags Bilbo with him in the living room, where the others are already sitting. By some brilliant twist of fate, Bilbo soon finds himself sitting on the couch _between_ Frerin and Thorin.

“So”, Frerin says conversationally. “How did you manage to get such a catch, brotherboy?”

Thorin looks unimpressed and also, Bilbo notices, a little tense already. “I didn’t manage to get anything. Or anyone.”

“Ooh, so Bilbo here is a free man?” Frerin asks, and suddenly there is an arm around Bilbo’s shoulders. Bilbo has to blink couple of times. This seems almost too easy.

“Sure am”, Bilbo smiles after he gets a hold of himself. He turns to look at Thorin pointedly when he says, “Free as a bird.”

It’s a surprise, really, that Thorin’s teeth don’t fall out at that. Given the way he clenches his jaw, and refuses to say anything. The stubborn idiot, still set on winning the bet.

Bilbo grins. This is going to be _good._

 

Frerin keeps flirting with Bilbo the whole day, and he keeps flirting back.

Before lunch, it’s playful compliments about Frerin’s career with modeling and photography. After lunch, it’s actually rather intelligent, yet still terribly flirty, discussion about literature. At dinner there is winks and smiles when passing the salt, and after it there is a game of chess with lot more innuendos than Bilbo is used to.

It’s all both extremely fun and terrible.

Fun because Frerin _is_ charming, if a little too young and energetic to Bilbo’s liking even if he wasn’t married and head over heels for Frerin’s older brother, and that’s what flirting is supposed to be; just fun.

And terrible because it all happens while Thorin keeps looking at them like he swallowed a whole lemon. Bilbo can’t stop playing with the wedding ring in his pocket, and the whole time he laughs with Frerin and jokes with Dís, he just hopes that Thorin would give up already.

But of course he doesn’t.

He just keeps looking positively murderous and obvious about his feelings.

 

And it all makes Bilbo so frustrated. Because even though Thorin isn’t winning their bet like this, neither is Bilbo. Thorin’s family is clearly seeing some mutual pining going on, but an actual relationship? No chance.

So, at the end of the day, Bilbo knows he has no other option than to take the flirting on another level tomorrow and really get Thorin so jealous he can’t do this pretending anymore. Right?

_Right?_


	19. Saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Frerin:** so say a word and ill tone it down it ok

Thorin is beginning to think that he must have been an awful person in his past life. Probably level ‘Got A Bunch Of Innocent People Killed Because Was Too Proud To Admit To Being Wrong’ awful. Maybe even his relatives. Like nephews or something. Because if the nightmare that his life has suddenly become isn’t karma getting back at him, he has no idea what is happening.

Of course it _could_ be just a husband that’s frustrated of pretending, and a brother that can’t help his nature.

But whatever it is, Thorin doesn’t enjoy it one bit. Watching his brother flirt with people is a second nature to Thorin, having years of experience of it, but watching his brother flirt with Bilbo is terrible. It would feel bad even if Bilbo wasn’t his husband, and now…

It makes Thorin feel so God-damned _stupid_.

Because this. This is one hundred percent his own fault. He could’ve prevented this. He could stop this. Any time he wanted. Any. Time.

Frerin’s main way of communication might be flirting - to the extent that one time he kind of flirted with Dwalin at a Thanksgiving dinner - but he isn’t an asshole of any kind. Frerin respects boundaries and always backs off when asked to do so. And Bilbo most likely would’ve already asked him to, if not for the fact that Thorin is a wuss who’s doesn’t have the courage to tell his family about a husband.

Damn everything, damn it all. Thorin himself more than anything.

 

“So, are we going to see more of you after Christmas?” Frerin asks Bilbo, sipping his glass of wine with a smile on his face. Thorin stares at his own glass like _it_ was the one to cause him all this harm, and not his own choices.

“Hopefully”, Bilbo giggles. _GIggles._ Thorin doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry. Instead he turns to Vili, and ask her about her and Dís’ plans for after the baby is born. Frerin and Bilbo continue their laughter-filled conversation on the other side of the living room.

“Well, I’ll work from home until we can put both of the kids to daycare. And Dís is on maternity leave as long as she can before returning to-”, Vili stops suddenly, knowing smile playing on her lips. She looks at Thorin, raising her eyebrows, and then says with a quiet voice: “But you don’t really care about that, don’t you? At least not now. You’re too invested in another conversation.”

Thorin just grunts and clenches his jaw. Frerin is in the middle of telling Bilbo a funny story about some photoshoot gone horribly wrong in Paris couple of months ago.

“I thought so”, Vili says, nodding solemnly, and then clapping Thorin on the back before raising up and going to find her wife and son. “Staring won’t do you any favours”, she adds when she gets on her feet. “I admit I don’t know a whole lot about getting your dream man, but I imagine it can’t be that different from getting your dream woman, and I did succeed at that. So. Actions are what will get you somewhere. _Do something_ , Thorin.”

 _Yeah,_ do something _, Thorin_ , he thinks to himself when she’s gone. _Like ditch the stupid bet and grow a backbone. Tell everyone you’ve already gotten your dream man._

But he doesn’t do it. He doesn’t do anything, doesn’t anything. He just stares at his wine glass and listens to Bilbo explain the plot of the novel he’s currently preparing for publishing.

Just damn it all.

 

Thorin is about to go to sleep - having given up on trying to find his wedding ring that isn’t in the top drawer where he thought he left it; he’ll find it tomorrow - when he gets a text message from his bother of all people. Thorin sighs and opens the text just as another message from Frerin pings as it arrives.

 **Frerin:** ur man bilbo really is a catch  
**Frerin:** but u know me, stepping on toes isnt what i want

Thorin doesn’t have the time to even think about answering, when a third message appears on his phone screen.

 **Frerin:** so say a word and ill tone it down it ok

Thorin sighs again, curses himself for the sixth or sixteenth time this very day, and types, _There’s no word. No toes to step on._

Frerin’s reply comes as soon as it could be expected from someone who lives with his phone in his hand.

 **Frerin:** ok sure if thats what u say ok

It’s a bit too many ‘ok’s to be Frerin’s usual texting, and Thorin has to sigh again. It’s clear that someone - probably Dís - has asked Frerin to be part of this whole setting Bilbo and Thorin up thing that seems to be going on. And Bilbo has taken that opportunity to try and make Thorin give up on winning the bet.

Not that it matters. Knowing that he’s being conned doesn’t make Thorin feel any better. In fact, it might even make him feel worse. The ball is in his corner, and everybody knows it. It’s too much pressure and too confusing for him, so there’s only one thing to do:

 _You’re still not winning_ , he texts Bilbo.

The answer comes almost immediately.

 **Bilbo:** We’ll see about that.

Thorin rolls his eyes and goes to sleep. It’s not that much more than a week left of the vacation. He can do this. No matter how annoying it is to watch your little brother flirt with your husband. He can do this. He _can_.


	20. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Look, I’m not pissed at you”, Dwalin interrupts. “Or okay, maybe I am. A little. But I’m usually at least a little pissed at most of people, so you’re nothing special.”

Bilbo Baggins is confused. And apparently he has majorly messed up. 

Messed up in a way that has gotten _Dwalin Durin_ pissed at him.

 

To understand this situation better, let’s take a look back what has happened on Sunday, December 20th:

\- At breakfast Bilbo ate with Frerin, Dís, Dwalin, and Thror. He discussed the current politics with Thror and Dís, and then changed conversations almost mid-sentence by complimenting Frerin’s opinion on the issue discussed (even though Frerin had been quiet) when Thorin came to kitchen.

\- When preparing the table for lunch with both Thorin and Frerin, Bilbo stayed significantly closer to the younger of the Durin brothers.

\- At the actual lunch, Bilbo deliberately avoided as much as looking at Thorin.

\- Between lunch and dinner, Bilbo spent his time laughing when Frerin and Dís shared their childhood stories about Thorin. Thorin didn’t share anything, just sat on the armchair and looked grim.

\- During dinner, Thorin actually tried to start a conversation with Bilbo. Bilbo answered all his questions only with a sweet smile before turning to ask something from Vili or Freja.

\- After dinner Bilbo played yet another game of chess with Balin. He ignored Thorin the whole time.

 

And now, to the present:

After Bilbo - unsurprisingly, as Balin seems to be some kind of chess wizard - loses the chess game, he goes outside for a pipe. He expects to be alone, but before he has even had the time to light his pipe, Dwalin comes through the cabin’s front door, and joins him on the bench.

“I didn’t know you smoked”, Bilbo furrows his brows at Dwalin as he lights a match and tries to get his pipe to stay lit in the windy evening.

“I don’t”, Dwalin raises his eyebrows, and it’s only then that Bilbo notices how tight line his mouth is and how tensed his posture is. How _annoyed_ he looks.

Bilbo is almost too afraid to even ask, but he still does it: “Did you have something to say to me, or are you just enjoying the fresh air?”

Dwalin rolls his eyes at the ‘fresh air’ as most non-smokers do. Then he raises his right index finger and points it at Bilbo as he says: “I have only one thing to say, and it’s _stop_.”

Bilbo is glad that he didn’t use that exact moment to inhale smoke, because he probably would’ve choked on his own breath. His time at the Durin family cabin has been extremely confusing, and this conversation might be the most confusing of them all.

“What?” Bilbo asks. “Stop what?”

“This game you and Thorin are playing”, Dwalin says, rolling his eyes again. “Stop it. Now.”

“I don’t know what game you’re refer-”

“Look, I’m not pissed at you”, Dwalin interrupts. “Or okay, maybe I am. A little. But I’m usually at least a little pissed at most of people, so you’re nothing special.”

Bilbo opens his mouth to say something, _anything_ , but Dwalin raises his hand to stop him.

“I’m not done yet”, he says before continuing. “So I’m pissed at you. But mostly I’m pissed at Thorin. I don’t know why you two are doing this, playing this game, but it has to stop. I can’t look at my cousin moping around the rest of my vacation. And since I know him well enough to realize that _he_ is too stubborn to stop anything, it has to be you. So do it.”

And then he leaves before Bilbo can even get his mouth open again. This little speech is the most words Bilbo has heard Thorin’s cousin say all week, and he feels more than just a bit stunned, because apparently what coaxes words out of Dwalin Durin is ‘playing a game’.

 

when Bilbo gets himself back together after finishing his pipe, he goes back to inside and wonders upstairs. But instead of going into his room and bed, he finds himself standing in front of Thorin’s door. Deciding that it doesn’t matter, he just shrugs and goes inside.

“Bilbo?” asks Thorin, who is in the middle of changing into his pajamas, and clearly doesn’t think ‘that it doesn’t matter’. Bilbo rolls his eyes, having seen Thorin with much less clothing off than just his shirt, and closes the door behind him before just walking to Thorin’s bed and falling on it on his face.

“Bilbo?” Thorin repeats, now clearly confused.

_Good_ , Bilbo thinks, _I’m not the only one confused around here._

“Your cousin knows, you know”, he says aloud. “He just gave me a whole speech about stopping this game you and I are playing.”

“Balin?”

“No”, Bilbo groans into the mattress of Thorin’s bed. “Dwalin.”

“Huh”, Thorin says, and Bilbo raises his head to look at his husband. ‘Huh’. Is that all this is going to get?

“He knows Thorin”, Bilbo repeats. “Therefore you have lost. Congratulations. Go tell your family about our marriage.”

“Did he at any point actually _say_ that he knows?” Thorin asks, and Bilbo raises his eyebrows in unimpressed manner.

“He told me to stop the game we’re playing”, Bilbo repeats. He’s getting kind of tired of this repeating thing. Thorin could just acknowledge his defeat already. “What else could _the game_ mean than us pretending to not to be a couple?”

“The mutual pining thing my family thinks is going on?” Thorin suggests, and that… actually makes sense. Yes. It could be possible.

Bilbo isn’t _completely_ convinced that Dwalin hasn’t guessed more than just some mutual pining thing, but it could be possible. It really could.

Damn.

The bet is still on.

Bilbo sighs and then raises up from the bed, because if the bet is still on, he’s going to have to sleep this night in his own bed. Damn, damn, _damn_. 

When he gets on his feet, something chinks, and Bilbo looks down at the floor just in time to see his wedding ring roll under Thorin’s bed. Damn sweater pockets without zippers or buttons.

Bilbo dives under the bed, and is surprised when he finds two rings instead of one. He takes both of them in his hand and gives the bigger one to Thorin when he gets on his feet again.

“This how you treat your wedding ring?” Bilbo asks, teasing. Thorin isn’t the neatest being outside his office, and more often than not his belonging end up under the bed. Bilbo is sure his ring would end up there more often too, if it wasn’t usually on his finger.

Thorin takes the ring, brows furrowing in confusion before he opens the top drawer of his bedside table and puts the ring there.  
“I thought I had put it here, before”, Thorin says, and Bilbo snorts.

“Just like you always think you’ve put your socks in your drawer back home”, he smiles and then stands on his toes to kiss Thorin on the cheek. “Night.”

“Night”, Thorin answers, and Bilbo goes to the door to leave the room. Just as he steps into the hallway and is closing the door, Thorin calls behind him: “Love you.”

Bilbo closes the door gently with a smile on his face. When he gets to his room, he takes his phone from the table he left it on, and opens the latest text message conversation.

 

_Love you too_ , he types.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only five chapters left ?? Time has gone so quickly, oh god.


	21. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know what day it is”, Thrain says, tone as serious as it possibly can be. Thorin nods, mouth full of toast.

It’s December 21st, and there is only four days until Christmas. And that means Thrain is having his annual Christmas panic.

How it happens every year, no one know, but it just does. Even if all the Christmas preparations are usually done by the 21st, and there is absolutely nothing for Thrain to panic about.

The gifts have been bought _and_ wrapped, everything that’s needed for the Christmas dinner is stacked in the cupboards, the tree is only decorations short from perfect, and _absolutely everything is ready._

And yet, when Thorin finally comes downstairs for breakfast, Thrain is waiting for him in the kitchen.

“Thorin”, he says, and Thorin suppresses the urge to sigh and roll his eyes. Every single year his father freaks out four days before Christmas, and every single year it’s Thorin who has to calm him down.

Freja washed her hands out of the Christmas panic already when Thorin and his siblings were little, saying that she handled Thrain’s crises every other time of the year, and that she deserved the break. Thror used a similar excuse, reminding everyone of the fact that he _raised_ Thrain, and has therefore handled more than enough of his panics for a lifetime. Dís and Frerin, on the other hand, were both banned from helping with any possible crises that might occur inside the family, having both caused more of them than prevented any.

So. Thorin it was.

“Dad”, Thorin answers, taking a piece of toast for himself. He called Thrain ‘father’ in his head, but to his face Thrain was always dad. Father sounded way too formal for even Thorin.

“You know what day it is”, Thrain says, tone as serious as it possibly can be. Thorin nods, mouth full of toast.

“Yes, I know what day it is”, he confirms after he swallows the toast.

“So you know what has to be done?”

This time Thorin suppresses no urges. He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I know what has to be done.”

Thrain nods. “Good.”

 

And so they sit at the opposite sides of the kitchen table, and Thrain pulls a paper and a pen from his pocket. He sets the paper - a list, more accurately - in front of him and holds the pen in a way that suggests that he’s ready to cross things off the list.

“Food?” Thrain asks.

“Mom would be insulted that you even have to ask”, Thorin answers.

Thrain doesn’t say anything to that, just crosses the first thing off his list before asking: “Gifts?”

“Wrapped them up yourself.”

“Something to keep both Frerin and Fíli entertained on Christmas Eve?”

“Respectable collection of the best children’s Christmas movies, yes.”

“Tree?”

“We got it few days ago, remember? And the decoration happens on the 24th, as usual.”

“The decorations?”

“I got the box from the attic last night.”

This goes on for a while, Thrain reading things from his list, and Thorin assuring that the things are in order. Crossing off all the things on the list takes some time, but this system is the best in calming the Christmas panic before it reaches catastrophic levels. Thorin has learned that from experience - trial and error is the way he and Thrain have developed this habit with the list on the 21st.

“The little present for Fíli to open already on Christmas Eve before going to bed?” Thrain asks when they reach the end of the list.

“Yes”, Thorin nods, thinking about the children’s audiobook Dís showed him before wrapping it up in paper with a snowman print on it. Then his mind goes to the Stephen King novel that Freja showed him before wrapping it up in paper with a snowflake print on it. “And for Frerin too. You know he doesn’t sleep on the night before Christmas anyway.”

Thrain nods, and smiles for the first time on this morning. He puts the paper and the pen both back into his pocket, and raises up. “That was all”, he sighs practically in relief, before looking at his son with gratitude. “Thank you.”

“Always a pleasure”, Thorin waves him off, and gets himself another piece of toast. Thrain disappears into the living room, leaving Thorin in the kitchen to finish his breakfast in blessed peace and quiet.  
“Thorin.”

Or not in peace and quiet. Well, it was overrated anyway.

“Mmm-hmm?”, Thorin muses at his sister, who sits next to him and pours herself a glass of the orange juice that’s on the table.

“Thorin”, Dís repeats, watching Thorin with a look he can’t recognize. “There’s no one ‘special’ in your life, right?”

“...right”, Thorin says, raising an eyebrow. 

“But if there was, you’d tell us, right?” Dís continues. 

Thorin forces himself remain calm as he swallows a mouthful of toast. “...right.”

“Okay”, Dís says, smile appearing on her face, and claps Thorin on the back. “Good. That’s all.”

She leaves the kitchen with that, and Thorin is left alone, coughing the bed crumbs that he almost choked on when Dís clapped him on the back.

Maybe Bilbo is right and his family already knows. Dís sure is acting oddly. And Dwalin confronted Bilbo yesterday... 

But no one has said anything explicitly. So there is still… Well, not maybe hope for his win, not exactly, but time at least. Time to think about what is the best way to tell his family about the marriage, and how to explain why he didn’t tell sooner.

Thorin lets a heavy sigh.

He hasn’t even finished breakfast, and he’s already disappointed in this day. And maybe a little bit in himself too.

But. He has time. They aren’t leaving the cabin before the 27th, so there’s still almost a week to come up with a plan. Maybe he can just leave the telling to the last day? Maybe he can drag this thing that far? Or he can prepare a speech in which he explains everything and can be held whenever there is a decent opening for it.

Thorin imagines himself explaining everything at Christmas dinner, and grimaces.Yeah, maybe it’s not that good of an idea. 

Luckily he still has time.


	22. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "God, Thorin, I don’t think you realize how great your family is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little Dwalin/Nori happened, Gosh, I hope none of you has extremely strong NOTP feels about it. ~~and if u do, it's probs not too much ?? plus is only talk, nori doesn't magically appear in this chap~~

Thorin can feel himself drifting off as he loses interest in Frerin’s report on the winner of the latest season of ‘America’s Next Top Model’. (It was Nyle DiMarco, and from the sounds of it, Frerin had a huge crush on him.)

The Durin family has couple of Christmas traditions. One is getting the tree, second is decorating it on the Christmas Eve. Third is the Christmas panic of Thrain. And the fourth and the final one… Well, it doesn’t make much sense, but it’s a ‘Durin men hanging out for a day’ day on 22nd.

Every year, three days before Christmas, all of the Durin men get the cabin to themselves as all the other visitors leave for movies or whatever they have decided to do that year. Thorin has never quite grasped the concept, but this tradition is especially important to Thror, who insists on doing it every year.

And so, Thorin is left to the cabin with his grandfather, his father, his brother, his nephew, his cousins, and his sister’s wife (Dís and Vili have made a deal with Thror that since Dís didn’t marry a man, she and her wife can take turns on who gets to attend the ‘Durin men hanging out for a day’ day’. This year it’s Vili, since Dís is pregnant and said that ‘she can’t take that much testosterone’.) while Bilbo leaves the cabin with Dís and Freja. Technically Bilbo _is_ one of the Durin men, but since nobody but Bilbo and Thorin know that, and Thorin hasn’t finished his plan of telling to his family, Bilbo doesn’t qualify as one.

Thorin briefly wonders whether he and Bilbo will have to do a deal of who gets to attend the ‘Durin men hanging out for a day’ day like Dís and Vili did, or if they will both attend at the same time, before shaking his head and concentrating on whatever conversation has been going on while he has been in his thoughts.

“Oh, hey, Dwalin”, Frerin is saying. “I forgot to ask! Why isn’t Nori here this year?”

“He’s spending Christmas with his brothers for once”, Dwalin shrugs, not raising his gaze from the chess game he’s playing against Thrain.

“Aww, what a shame”, Frerin whines. “I mean, it’s great he’s getting on with his older brother for a chance, but I like it when he’s here. He’s good company.”

Thorin rolls his eyes, and Balin mutters “He’s many things, but good company for you isn’t one of them”, voicing the thoughts of probably everyone in the room. They all like Nori, not least because he really gets Dwalin to loosen up and makes him happy, but when you put him in the same room with Frerin… Nothing good happens. Nothing. At. All.

“You didn’t go with him?” Thror asks Dwalin, brows furrowed. “He has spent so many Christmases with us, one would think you’d like to spend one with his.”

“Well, yeah”, Dwalin laughs at that. “The truce between Nori and Dori isn’t that stable yet. I’m not going to rock the boat by going there now. I’ll think about it next year if they’re still good.”

Thror nods, and Thorin shudders at the thought of getting in the middle of Nori and his older brother fighting. He has met Dori twice or thrice through work, and he and Nori truly are as different as brothers can be. Thorin and Frerin aren’t much alike either, but at least they are never on the opposite sides of the law.

The thought about law makes Thorin think about work, and the case he left his employees work on, and-- he drifts off into his thoughts again.

 

“Hey.”

It’s Vili who pulls him off of his thoughts, sitting next to him on the couch and smiling at him. Thorin looks up at her, and then at his surroundings, and finds that everyone except Fíli and Vili have left the room. Probably prepare the lunch.

“You know, I had a hard time telling my family about Dís”, Vili says, looking at Fíli who is on the floor, playing with a wooden toy train that belonged to Frerin when he was a kid. “I knew, rationally, that they were going to accept it and be happy for me. I wasn’t in the closet or anything, I had had a few girlfriends in high school, and I had brought some of them to home too… It was just… getting engaged to someone is different. It’s _bigger_.”

Thorin nods and feels a bang in his chest when he realizes Vili is telling him this as an encouragement. It’s a bang of guilt, but also a bang of something else. Something you feel when you find out that you’re not the only one who is or has been scared of something. A bang of solidarity.

“My twin sister, Vali, you met her that one fourth of July, had just gotten married with his husband, Gloin, you met him too, and I was just so scared”, Vili continues. “I had this ridiculous thought that either my family or Dís family was going to be upset about us getting married, that I should’ve wanted what my sister had, a husband and a traditional family like that… But. My family didn’t freak out. They all wished luck and just wanted to know when the wedding would be. And your family… God, Thorin, I don’t think you realize how great your family is.”

Thorin snorts, and Vili laughs as well.

“Seriously”, she says after a moment, and uses a serious tone again. “Not all families are as accepting even of traditional spouses as your family is. But you guys took me in, and here I am, spending the Christmas for the third time in a row with you.” She stops, shaking her head in disbelief. “God, the third already? We really have to go to my folks next year”, she mutters before continuing. “So. I just want you to know that your family is definitely take in whoever you bring to them, too.”

“I know”, Thorin nods, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. Vili laughs, but not in a mean way.

“I don’t think you do”, she says and smiles before rising up and scooping Fíli up on her arms from the floor. “Lunch is ready. I think Frerin made fish. You should come before it’s all gone, you know how this bunch is with food.”

Thorin nods again, feeling a bit numb.

He really, _really_ , should come up with that plan already. His family deserves to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Three_ more chapters to go! Eep.


	23. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _11:54 pm_
> 
> Damn bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's f-word at the end of this chapter. Or two, if we are being exact. I apologise. It's scandalous, I know.

_07:34 am_

Bilbo is getting tired of pretending.

He lays in his bed, staring at the ceiling, and thinks. He spent all of yesterday in town with Freja and Dís. Freja, who is funny and sweet and has that something that reminds Bilbo of his own mother. Dís, who is very much someone Bilbo would like to call a friend.

It’s not right to just keep lying.

 

_08:14 am_

Bilbo has two boiled eggs and a cup of tea for breakfast. He sits between Frerin and Fíli, and Dwalin is sending him ugly looks from across the kitchen, probably because the conversation between Bilbo and Frerin isn’t exactly free of flirting.

But the ugly looks are unnecessary. Bilbo isn’t encouraging the flirting, or taking it any further. In fact he’s trying to tune it down a bit, but talking with Thorin’s little brother just seems to always come with the flirting. 

It’s okay. Bilbo is just tired of pretending. He’d very much like to return to flirting with his husband, thank you.

 

_08:59 am_

Dís and Vili are still sleeping, undoubtedly enjoying the rare occurrence of their son _not_ waking them up before seven, so Bilbo takes up the opportunity to play with Fíli. They build a little town together, of duplo legos and wooden blocks, and laughs when Fíli giggles as his tower comes crumbling down when it gets too high.

Fíli still calls him Uncle Bilbo, and there’s a lump in Bilbo’s throat. Because he’s not, not at the moment, but he should be.

He _could_ be.

 

_10:22 am_

Bilbo smiles at Thorin when he finally wakes up and comes downstairs. Thorin smiles back, and he looks almost as done with the bet as Bilbo is.

But Thorin says nothing, does nothing, and Bilbo continues building a block city. Now with Vili accompanying him and Fíli.

 

_10:38 am_

“You ever thought about having kids?”

Bilbo raises his gaze from the duplos, and looks at Vili. He snorts. “You know, I already had this conversation with Freja and Dís.”

“So have it with me too!” Vili insists. “Seriously. Humor me.”

“You’ve been around Durins for too long”, Bilbo says instead of answering the question. “You’re annoying enough to be one.”

Vili just laughs at him. “You’re gonna catch it too, don’t worry.”

Yeah.

 

_12:17 pm_

Lunch is a bit of a hassle, as always. Fíli has learned the joys of throwing potatoes off his plate, and Vili and Dís are having difficulties at making him stop, and the cheering of Frerin and Dwalin doesn’t help their case.

Bilbo chit chats with Thror and Balin, but keeps stealing glances at Thorin the whole time. They sit as far away from each other as possible, and all the other married couples at the table sit next to each other. 

This kind of things _really_ make Bilbo get tired of the bet.

 

_02:24 pm_

Bilbo loses a game of chess for Balin.

It’s the third time in a row.

Suddenly the bet isn’t the only thing Bilbo is getting tired of.

 

_03:45 pm_

Bilbo smokes a pipe with Frerin. Or rather, Bilbo smokes a pipe and Frerin just keeps him company.

“I used to smoke”, Frerin says to Bilbo, easy smile on his face. “Part of that whole bad boy aesthetic I tried in high school. But I quit once I really got into the modeling business. I mean, there’s nothing I want more than a cig after a photoshoot, but I can’t risk getting yellow teeth. I have better things to use my money on than my teeth.”

Bilbo just nods. He has nothing to say, the modeling world is like a parallel universe for him. It’s the farthest thing from his own profession. Book writing and radio work, those two things have the least to do with looks.

 

_05:07 pm_

Freja makes tea for everyone that wants it, meaning that Freja and Bilbo sit at the kitchen table with just each other as their company. Balin takes a cup too, but he takes it with him to the living room where Dwalin and Dís have teamed up in attempt to beat Balin in chess.

“It’s nice that you are spending the Christmas with us”, Freja says after she has poured tea for both of them. “I hope we’ll see more of you in the future.”

Bilbo suppresses a sigh, and forces a smile on his face. This. This kind of lying is getting really hard.

“I think that can be arranged.”

 

_06:33 pm_

At dinner, Bilbo sits next to Thorin, just because he’s that tired of this whole thing.

Thorin looks at him weird, but says nothing.

 

_07:42 pm_

Bilbo is the one who reads a bedtime story to Fíli. Vili listens in the doorway, and after Fíli is asleep and Bilbo closes the e-book app on his phone, she smiles widely at him.

“Was that one of yours?” she asks when they are both in the hallway, the door safely closed behind them.

Bilbo nods. He still remembers writing that one: a story about two dwarf princes who keep getting in trouble for doing different pranks around the secret dwarven city they live in. “The first children’s book I wrote”, he says, fondly, because who doesn’t love their firstborn child? “Or. The first that got published, anyway.”

Vili nods. “It was really good. Do you write anything for adults as well, or just children’s books?”

“Adults as well”, Bilbo assures. “And young adults as well. Couple of murder mysteries for the mature readers, and some adventure stories for the younger ones.”

Vili nods again. “So cool”, she says, dreamy look in her eyes. “I always wanted to illustrate children’s books. I took a job in marketing only to pay off my student loans from art school, and the next thing I know, I’m stuck. With a family to provide, the regular income is just too good to throw away. And the job isn’t that bad, I like it enough. It’s just… It’s not the dream, you know?”

“I know”, Bilbo shudders, thinking about the time in his life he had to work as a grocer in order to get food on the table. “But hey, you could send me some of your stuff, like a portfolio, and I could show it to my editor? I can’t promise anything, of course, but I’m starting to write a new children’s book after New Year’s and… Well, yeah, send me a portfolio. If you have the time. And want to, obviously, I’m not trying to push you into anything, I just thought-”

“Bilbo”, Vili cuts off his rambling. Her eyes look shinier than usual. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing! As I said, I can’t make any promises, but since you’re going to have a lot of sleepless nights with the baby, you might have the time to do something, and if your style is compatible with my writing style, then maybe, _maybe_ -”

“Bilbo”, Vili cuts him off again, and suddenly she’s hugging him. “Still. Thank you. Of course I’ll send you a portfolio.”

Bilbo can’t think of anything to say, so he just hugs her back.

 

_09:12 pm_

Thror pulls a bottle of wine out of pretty much thin air, and Freja brings the glasses from the kitchen. Dís obviously sticks to water, but all the other adults take a glass of wine for themselves, and soon the conversation runs even smoother than usual.

Bilbo wants to tease Thorin about how he finally gets to have a glass of wine every night. About how at home Thorin is always complaining when they don’t have wine in the house at all, but Bilbo stacks the refrigerator with beer every other Friday.

But he doesn’t.

Damn bet. Damn pretending. Damn lying.

He’s so, _so_ tired of it.

 

_10:02 pm_

For whatever reason, Dís starts showing pictures of hers and Vili’s wedding. Bilbo bites his cheek the whole time. He would really like to show his and Thorin’s wedding pictures too, because even if they didn’t really have a ceremony or anything, Thorin looked really good in his suit. He always does. Luckily for Bilbo, his job requires a lot of suits. And ties. Ties are good if your husband is taller than you, you can pull them in a kiss and-

And Bilbo might have had one glass too much, if he gets distracted like this.

But damn, does he want to kiss Thorin right now.

Too bad he can’t. Damn bet.

 

_11:16 pm_

Damn bet. Damn, damn, _damn._

 

_11:32 pm_

He’s so tired of pretending. Just so tired. It’s so pointless and stupid and everybody probably already knows and - damn bet.

 

_11:47 pm_

Bilbo is tired and frustrated and tired. Off this whole mess of a bet. He takes one more glass of wine - last glass - and is just so tired. And wants to kiss his husband very badly.

 

_11:54 pm_

Bilbo keeps playing with his wedding ring in his pocket. Damn bet.

 

_11:59 pm_

No. But really. _Damn_ the bet.

“Fuck this”, Bilbo swears. His cheeks are warm from the wine. Everybody turns to look at him, surprised of his language, probably.

“Fuck this”, Bilbo repeats. “I’m officially sick of this.”

Damn bet. Damn _the_ bet. Bilbo takes a deep breath.

“Me and Thorin”, he says and takes his wedding ring out of his pocket. “We are married.”

 

_00:00_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand here it is. The only real cliffhanger in this fic. We're so near the end, guys.


	24. Christmas Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Damn Durins and their secrets.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, you all! ❤ I know that Christmas Eve isn't that big deal for probs the most of you (???) but for us Finns it's the day everything exciting happens. The rest is just recovering from the ridiculous amount of food we eat today.
> 
> ~~aaand so, this is the moment i've been building up to all month. i rly hope you will enjoy it as well & it's not gonna be a dissapointment. thank you for all the support i've gotten, i love you all <33~~

“We are married”, Bilbo says, holding his wedding ring for everybody to see, and Thorin’s brain stops working.

“So I won the bet”, he blurts out before he can even try to think about anything smarter to say. Bad. Idea.

“Sure, whatever”, Bilbo says at the same time as Freja asks, eyebrows raised, “What bet?”

Thorin and Bilbo look at each other. Moment of truth. Thorin clears his throat.

“We had a bet about-”, he starts, but apparently he has already used all of the patience Bilbo has for him, because his husband interrupts him almost immediately.

“Thorin here”, Bilbo says, and everybody is looking at him. “Somehow forgot to tell you that we got married _six months_ ago, and then said that his family would believe if we came as friends. I didn’t agree, we made a bet out of it, the usual.”

“I-”, Thorin began, but caught the look Bilbo was giving him. “ _We’re_ sorry.”

“We are”, Bilbo confirmed. “Both of us. I didn’t meant to drag this thing this far, I thought I’d make either you suspicious enough or Thorin frustrated enough for this all to end in like a week. But no such luck. None of you knew and-”

“I knew”, Dwalin and Dís say at the exact same time. They turn to look at each other in surprise.

“What?” they both ask, still perfectly in sync. “How did you know?”

They both stop, clearly annoyed of speaking over each other. Dwalin makes a vague motion with his hand and says, “Ladies first.”

Dís gives him a dirty look, clearly disapproving _that_ sentiment, but takes her turn still: “I found Fíli playing in Thorin’s room the other day. He was going through the stuff in Thorin’s drawers, and I caught him just in time to prevent him from choking on _a wedding ring_. Which had both Thorin’s and Bilbo’s names as an engraving. So…”

“You found a wedding ring?” This time it’s Dwalin and Vili who speak at the same time.

“You didn’t tell me”, Vili says to Dís after Dwalin nods an encouragement for her to speak first. Dís shrugs, and doesn’t even look that apologetic. Vili mutters something that sounds a lot like “Damn Durins and their secrets.”

“You found a wedding ring?” Dwalin repeats. “Pathetic. I didn’t need a wedding ring to realize those two are married. Have you all kept your eyes shut the whole time you’ve been with them?”

“I call _bullshit_ ”, Dís announces. “Maybe you guessed that they were together, but there’s no possible way you would’ve known they are _married_.”

Dwalin just raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms over his chest. “Oh really?” he challenges. “Let me tell you how I knew they are married. One, they are obviously together. The body language, the staring, the bickering, Thorin’s drunken flirting - neither of the two is particularly good actor. Two, they are _obviously_ married. Nobody brings a friend to the family cabin for Christmas, true. But Thorin doesn’t bring even a boyfriend. No way he’d introduce his family a guy who might walk out of his life someday. But Thorin brought Bilbo. So. Logically, they have to be at least married.”

Bilbo and Thorin share a look. “At least married?”, Bilbo mouths, and Thorin shrugs. He has no idea.

“But why?”

It’s Thror who asks the relevant question. Everybody turns to look at Thorin, who has the sense to look embarrassed.

“It’s not that simple!” Thorin defends himself. “Especially if you get married as quickly as we did! I didn’t want to just blurt it out like, ‘Hey mom! We talk about once a month, and I missed last month’s call because of meeting at work, so we haven’t talked in little over two months now. What new for me, you ask? Well, nothing much. First I started dating this guy I yelled at in public a while ago, and then I married him. Same old, same old. What about you guys?’”

“You yelled at him?” Thrain asks, confused, but everybody ignores him.

“But not to tell about it afterwards?” Freja demands. “Not even after you came to the cabin? _That_ was the chance to tell about it face-to-face, Thorin.”

“Or not to tell about it when actually _asked about it_?” Dís smirks at his oldest brother before turning to Frerin. “It’s finally official who’s the most pathetic of us three, right other-brother-boy?”

 

And then it happens. The Christmas miracle that saves Thorin’s (and probably Bilbo’s too, even though it seems to Thorin that at the moment his family has momentarily forgotten about Bilbo) rear end out of trouble.

 

“Uh…” Frerin says intelligently. “So is _this_ my cue to tell you all that I’ve been dating someone for about two years now, and that I’m going to propose to her at this New Year’s party we’re going?”

“But you flirted with me all the time!” Bilbo blurts out, and Thorin would be delighted of not being the only one who’s brain is not working in full capacity, if he wasn’t so surprised.

Frerin just raises his eyebrows, looking at Bilbo, and then casting a meaningful look at Thorin. Bilbo flushes and scratches the back of his neck.

For a long moment, nobody has anything to say. The news of Frerin being serious with someone, _having been_ serious for two years already, _proposing_ to someone… It’s all very absurd, and Thorin is dumbstruck by the revelation of how close he was to _actually_ be the last one of his siblings to settle down. 

Finally, Balin breaks the silence. “So, who _isn’t_ married or about to get married?”

There’s another silence, this time shorter, when everybody slowly turns to look Dwalin. He just shrugs.

“I’ve had the rings ready for ages”, he tells them. “I’m waiting for him to bring it up.”

“Well”, Thror says slowly. “Technically I’m not.”

“You have been, doesn’t count”, Balin announces, and takes the book he was reading and raises up in order to leave. “I’m not interested enough in other people’s relationships to miss precious sleeping hours. Good night to you all, I’ll see you in the morning.”

They all wish him good night with either words or nods, and once Balin disappears in upstairs, Dís turns back to Frerin.

“Wait”, she eyes him sharply. “In the last two years, you’ve brought _at least_ five different people with you to home. Or the cabin.”

“All friends from work”, Frerin shrugs. “Thorin isn’t only one who can pretend, you know. And actually _I’m_ the only one who can pretend, given the fact that you found about me and Arnvín just because I told you.”

“Arnvín? Is that her name”, Freja asks. Frerin nods, smiling, and his mother presses on. “Where is she? Why didn’t you bring her here? And she was okay with this whole pretending thing? Give me some answers, boy.”

“Chill”, Frerin says, raising his hands up defensively. “She’s spending the Christmas with her parents in Canada. And _yes_ , she was okay with pretending. Obviously. I wouldn’t force her to do something like that. Or anyone, for that matter. I _want_ you to meet her. She’s awesome. Actually I’m a little bit scared of Dís and Vili just stealing her, that’s how awesome she is.”

“So why not bring her here?” Thrain asks. “Or even tell about her? Two years is a long time, son. Much longer than six months.”

At the words ‘six months’, Thrain glances at Thorin in a manner that suggests that the lie is forgiven, but not forgotten. If they are lucky, Thorin and Bilbo will hear about these weeks at the cabin _only_ for few years. And if they aren’t lucky... Well, at least it’s not like they will have a wedding where Thorin’s family can embarrass them with this story.

“We’ve been together for two years, yeah, but it’s more complicated than that”, Frerin grimaces. “Uh, we’re both poly, and we have kept the relationship more… _open_ , ‘cos neither of us wanted to limit the other’s options. Plus there’s the whole thing that-” Frerin lets a pained groan and covers his face with his hand. “I can’t believe I’m talking about this with my parents, but…” he mutters, before continuing: “She’s a lot less interested in sex than I am, and that caused all kinds of misunderstandings and complications at first. I was kind of an asshole about it, too, for a while. But. All in all, I’m sure now that I want to spend the rest of my life with her - _just_ her, and woah, if that isn’t weird and scary - and I hope that she is too.”

It gets quiet again, but this time the silence is much more comfortable.

“New Year’s will tell, huh?” Bilbo finally says. Frerin smiles gratefully.

“Yeah, New Year’s will tell”, he echoes. “God, I hope she says yes.”

“If she’s crazy enough to have been stuck with you for the last two years, I think she will”, Dís smiles and claps her brother on the back. “Now. I demand pictures. I need to know if my wife is going to be the hottest one in the family next year.”

And after that, it’s all a blur. Frerin showing some photos of her mystery girlfriend on his phone, and Dís and Vili both complimenting him on his taste in women. (And making Frerin probably a little more afraid of them stealing her away from him. “So”, Vili said after she had seen the photos. “She’s poly, you say.”) Freja and Thrain questioning Bilbo and Thorin of their wedding, and Thror just smiling widely at all of them.

Maybe it’s the Christmas spirit, or the way Durin family generally works things out, but nobody seems to be angry or hurt. They’re just all happy for each other’s happiness.

And no one is happier than Thorin.

Because when they all finally leave for bed, (“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going to go to sleep _now_ ”, Dís announced at 2am. “I have a two-year-old who’s going to wake up in about four hours, and I need those four hours. So. Bad.”) Thorin gets to have Bilbo right there with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, that happened. All fluff and fun, as a Christmas fic should be. Arnvín is an OC of mine, who is also part of my Paris AU. (But you english speaking folks haven't seen her there yet, either, 'cos she's in parts that I haven't had the time to translate yet.) She's my precious child, and if I end up writing more of this series than just the New Year's and Valentine's Day's fics, you'll def see her. ~~lady dwarrows are my life, can u see ??~~
> 
> Uh, oh. So. There's only tomorrows fluffy, epilogue-like chapter left. It's not completed yet, so depending on whether or not I get any writing done tonight, it might come a bit later than the other chapters have come. It's def going to come on 25th, so no worries there. Just. Don't be too worried if it's not there in the morning.
> 
> Oh, and btw, tomorrow we're gonna see a POV we haven't seen yet.


	25. Christmas Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Durin family is weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, Merry Christmas for all of you who celebrate today!!
> 
> Today's chapter is from the POV of everyone's favourite (great-) grandpa. Full of happiness and fluff and sappiness. hope you enjoy this last piece of my advent calendar.

The Durin family is weird.

 

Weird, and a bit dysfunctional. Filled with people who have annual Christmas panics, and people who don’t tell about girlfriends of two years or husbands of six months. Weird people, and even weird _er_ people.

But it’s not like Thror can complain. He has had a hand or two in raising most of these people that share his last name. 

Frerin’s frivolous nature? _Nothing_ compared to what Thror was like at his age.

Thorin’s awkwardness in unfamiliar situations? Pure Thror is his forties.

Balin’s patience and Dwalin’s habit of saying things as they are? Both qualities of their father. Who was raised by - _oh, did you guess already, camon it’s not a hard one_ \- Thror.

Dís’ flexible morals? Well, it might not be the best thing to be proud of, but _definitely_ Thror.

Thrain’s Christmas panic - and his tendency to worry in general - probably come from his mother, but who chose his mother? _Thror._

(Okay, that one’s a lie. Thror most definitely didn’t choose Magga, Magga chose him. But since she’s not here anymore, nobody needs to know how henpecked he was when his wife was alive.)

So. Thror doesn’t really have the right to complain. But then again, he really doesn’t even want to. 

He loves his family. Every individual member, the way they all fit together… All of it.

 

Thror loves his son and his son’s wife:

“Oh God”, Freja says when she opens the Christmas present from Thrain. “You really did it this year.”

And then she pulls the absolutely hideous vase for everyone to see. It’s purple, and it has a Picasso-like, neon green face on it. All of the others laugh, but Bilbo looks a bit confused.

“Why is this funny?” he asks Thror quietly, because they have somehow ended up sitting next to each other.

“It’s a tradition between Freja and Thrain”, Thror explains, big smile on his face as he watches his smug-looking son kiss his wife on the cheek. “Or more of a competition, really. They always try to be the one to give the other the ugliest present possible.”

Bilbo nods, thoughtful, and Thror is just happy that his son has found someone who completes him. Freja and Thrain fit together in entire different way than Thror and Magga did, but they fit nonetheless.

 

Thror loves his grandchildren:

Freja has banned everyone from the kitchen, because even though she appreciates the help on any other day of the year, Christmas dinner is more than just a little bit holy for her. To pass the time, Frerin pulls Monopoly out of one of the cabin’s many closets.

Thorin groans and Dís cheers. Bilbo looks vaguely terrified, and gratefully takes up Thain’s offer of joining him for a pipe. Vili grabs Fíli and flees. Dwalin doesn’t let any emotion show on his face, but Thror knows from experience that there’s not many things that Dwalin loves more than robbing everyone’s play money.

Balin, bless him and his sensibility, raises his eyebrows and asks, “Are you sure? The last time we played, none of you spoke to each other for weeks.”

Frerin just grins and nods, already setting the board up on the table and counting the play money. Thror watches amusedly as all of his grandkids gather around the game, ready to defend their honor in a miniature capitalist nightmare.

“Alright”, Balin shrugs, taking the money Frerin offers him. “But you’re not gonna cry this time when I own half of the hotels, are you?”

Well, that much for the sensibility. But still. It’s entertainment in it’s best.

 

Thror loves his great-grandchildren:

“Greatpa”, Fíli says seriously, and Thror picks him up on his lap. Christmas dinner is over, leaving all of the Durins sitting together in the living room, drinking eggnog and just enjoying each other’s company.

“What is it?” Thror asks, booping his great-grandson’s nose. Fíli swats his finger away with his little hand.

“Santa not bring my wish”, the boy says, looking grim. Thror furrows his eyebrows.

“What was your wish?” he asks, because he’s fairly sure the boy did get the toy robot and the story book he had asked for. Plus plenty of other gifts.

“Little brother.”

Oh. _Oh._

“Well, but that one’s _coming_ ”, Thror smiles. “You might have a new little brother or sister in a week.”

“Week too much!” Fíli pouts, and Thror laughs.

“It’s not too much”, he says, shaking his head. “It’s just the right time. Your little brother or sister is not quite ready yet. And besides, trust me, there will be times when you wish they hadn’t come even that early.”

“Why?”

“Because babies scream”; Thor answers. “And stink.” Fíli giggles at that, and Thror chuckles as well. “Yes, they do. And you’re still gonna love them. You know why?”

Fíli shakes his head. Thror smiles and kisses his forehead.

“Because little kids like you and your future little brother or sister are the most amazing thing in this world.”

 

And Thror also loves the people his grandchildren have chosen for themselves to spend the rest of their lives with:

“-so yeah, no modeling for her, she’s more of the type to stay behind the camera”, Frerin ends his story about the mysterious girlfriend of his, and Thror nods.

“She sounds great”, he says and he means it. “Reminds me a bit of your grandmother, but that’s just expected since you’re so much like me when I was-”

“CHRISTMAS MIRACLE”, Thror is cut off by Dwalin’s yell. “CHRISTMAS MIRACLE HAS HAPPENED. THE MASTER IS FINALLY DEFEATED!”

Thror and Frerin both turn to look at the other side of the room, where Dís and Dwalin are both grinning madly at the chess board between Balin and Vili.

“Not a Christmas miracle”, Vili says smugly. “Just a good ol’ fashioned victory.”

Dís kisses her wife on the cheek, and Dwalin pats his brother on the back, shaking his head in mock sympathy.

“I- just-”, Balin looks baffled, staring at the game pieces in disbelief. “ _How?_ ”

“President of the chess club in both high school and college”, Vili says and points a finger to herself. “Two national kiddie’s championships.”

“...and you didn’t care to mention this, because?” Balin asks, sounding a little lost. Vili grins the smile of a predator.

“What would’ve been the fun in that?”

Dís and Dwalin broke into cheers again, high-fiving and congratulating Vili of a ‘sick burn’. Thror smiles at them, and Frerin joins into the cheering. It’s all noisy and a bit of an overreaction, but at least there is two people in the room who don’t seem to even notice.

Thorin and Bilbo are sitting on the couch, so close to each other that it’s hard to tell where one of them ends and the other begins, talking about something that Thror can’t hear over the noise. They exchange chaste little kisses between the words, and Bilbo has his hand petting his husband’s beard.

 _Husband’s_. Thror is still having a hard time believing all of _that_.

Not the married part, obviously, since the two are clearly head over heels for each other. That much was clear before they were desperately making up for all the PDA they missed in their weeks at the cabin. But the not telling part. Because why? Just. Why?

 

...okay, maybe he sees where Thorin was coming. And the awkwardness of his oldest grandson is still exactly like his own awkwardness was some thirty years ago, so. He might be the wrong person to blame Thorin of anything. God knows Thror would’ve liked to hold his own wedding without informing his family.

Besides, Bilbo seems to be the perfect person to ease the awkwardness of Thror’s gradson. They too might be able to complete each other in just the right way, given enough time to practise. 

And. They are happy. And that makes Thror happy. It’s all he wants for his family: love and happiness.

 

Luckily they all seem to have that, now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are. At the end of this fic. I want to say _THANK YOU_ one more time for all of you, because wow. You've been amazing. You've left so many kudos and heartwarming comments... You've made my December more enjoyable than any month I've had in a while. Plus seeing you enjoy this fic ??? It has been great, because writing this has been my favourite part of my days as well.
> 
> Also, a fun fact: I've been writing fanfiction for six years, and this fic is both the longest one I've written (my other long texts have been original works) AND the first real multi chapter fic that I've finished. And the thanks goes to you<3\. Without your positive and kind words I'm like 106% sure that after a week or two of writing this, I would've just given in for my insecurities and deleted the whole thing.
> 
> So; Thank you. All of you. ❤
> 
>  
> 
> If you want to see more of this AU, come back to check my works on New Year's Eve, or subscribe to the Holiday AU.
> 
> If you want to talk about The Hobbit, Bagginshield, this fic (!!), or literally anything else w/ me, _please_ come talk to me on [tumblr](http://yavannakementari.tumblr.com).
> 
> If you liked this fic & want to share it with others, [here's](http://yavannakementari.tumblr.com/post/135899221581/candle-glow-and-mistletoe-29k-complete-modern) a post on tumblr you can reblog. It's even a little bit nicer to look at than the post I've used all December.


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